


Warm Shadows

by Storm0fCrows



Category: Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League Dark (Comics)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:57:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 80,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4774352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storm0fCrows/pseuds/Storm0fCrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of twenty-seven Harry Potter has a good ting going for him with the DEO, decent pay, odd hours, a good chances for advancement; What else could a Slytherin ask for? Maybe a few days that didn't force him into questioning his sanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stepping into the Looking Glass

"We must all face the choice between what is right, and what is easy."  
-Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

He was there again, back in the Great Hall dressed in his Slytherin house colors dodging spells thrown by both sides, moving towards the cackling, curly haired monster. Blood poured from the cut above his right eye clouding his vision, the poison in the werewolves toxin made it burn even more so, but he didn't stop. If the Old Man taught him one thing it was to complete the job at whatever the cost, and he owed her that much. Bellatrix didn't notice him; she was too busy torturing Auror Tonks to death. He pulled his wand out and aimed at her waist, "Incendio". He heard Lily Potter scream.

XxxX

Harry shot up, pulling his wand from under his pillow aiming it in the direction of the screeching noise. There was vibrant red howler hovering over him, with a twist of his wrist the letter burst into flames. He was sweating. He could feel his blood rush through his head, it was rather nauseating. running a hand through his hair and back until his fingers met the edge of one his scar. The memory of pain was fresh in his mind, a reminder constant reminder to be constantly vigilant of his immediate surroundings, he traced it down and across his face; it had become a ritual since the day he awoke with them. He looked around room, cold floors, grey walls, black drapes, he remembered Sirius calling it a grim old place. As Lord Black, Grimmauld was one of the few properties he had under the name. He spotted Hedwig on her perch looking worried, it wasn't long before the snowy owl flew over to the bed and began on his left hand, her feathers were slightly wet. He smiled before caressing her side and managing something that sounded like "Morning, girl" Harry hadn't managed to sleep well, opting his time to filling out the paperwork to bring his snowy goddess (as she liked to be called) with him on his trip to America.

Harry hated coming back here, back into a world that desperately worked to fuck him over at every other turn. His world was better, filled with themed freaks in masks and caped heroes. He sat back against the ebony headbored trying to relax.

The gentle sounds of rain hitting the glass window proved to be relaxing; too relaxing as he found himself needing to relieve himself. A quick visit to the john and ridiculously cold shower made him wide awake. He made himself breakfast as quickly as wizardly possible; a simple omelet with cooked sausage on the side. He dressed in a black suit, made with some type of alien micro-fiber weave, and a black trench coat, gun tucked neatly on his hip, and finally he slipped on to golden metal gauntlets that reached under the wrist, goblin smithed. Giving the house a quick once over, Harry grabbed his credentials off the table and put on his old newsboy cap. Once outside his eyes were drawn to silvery blonde hair neatly combed to the side with acromantula silk robes. He knew only one person who would dress in a very expensive suit and stand in the middle of the pouring rain, especially after spending nearly eight years sleeping in the same room as the bloody idiot. "Wotcher Malfoy." He greeted with little enthusiasm. Harry could already feel the headache the following conversation was going to induce.

"Black." He hissed. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you?"

"Not in the slightest."

"An hour."

"Why didn't you knock then?"

"I'd have to find the bloody place."

"Right, Fidelus charm, forgot about that, sorry." He wasn't particularly sorry, more in between amused and bored. 'He' a tit, nothing else Can be said. "What do you want?"

"Your brother has been pestering me for the weeks, showing up unannounced when I'm in the middle of my experiments! He's under some type of delusion, he thinks we're close, Black!"He whined

"He's a Gryffindor." Brash and persistent creatures, Charles especially, he had marked him as an enemy the moment he accepted the hat's offer. He never really understood the consequences of his almost constant alienations. "What do you expect?" The two ducked into Black Friars Underground station.

"I expect him to have the courage to confront you and leave me out of your spat."  
They came upon tube just as it was arriving.

"Yeah well, the Potters usually break with expectations."

"No, no, no, no. Not this again, I already dealt with this while in Hogwarts, for seven bleeding years I'm not doing it again." An amused smile crossed Harry's face. "Just talk to him."

"Don't worry, chances are I'll see her in the next twenty or so minutes."

"Why?"

"Work related stuff."

"Wait…You have a job?"

"Well we can't all be rich bastards, now can we?"

The train slowed as it approached Whitehall. The apparent shock threw Draco off balance enough that his face soon made contact with the handle bar in front of him. Hitching an eyebrow, Harry helped steady Draco. "Bloody hell, man. Why is that surprising?"

"You're a Millwall fan, and if understand muggles correctly they are all supposed to be unemployed hooligans."

"Not really, you're just a jackass." The doors opened with a hiss, prompting both men to stop off and onto the platform. "And since when have you paid attention to anything involving muggles?"

"Astoria finds them fascinating."

"Muggles?"

"Yes, muggles."

"Huh." Frankly Harry was rather surprised by the fact. Astoria was never really fascinated with anything back when they were back at Hogwarts., she was always his best friend's little sister that liked to stare at him when she thought no one else was looking. Okay looking back, she probably thought that he was pretty fascinating, Harry couldn't really blame her; he was rather attractive back then. "Well too each his own." The ride up the escalator was rather comical in its own way with Draco sneering at every muggle that walked passed him all the while clutching the rubber belt for dear life. When they finally reached the street Draco just apparated away without so much as a goodbye. "Git." Harry muttered non too loudly. Stepping once again into the October rain Harry made his way to the bright red abandoned call box three streets down. Dripping wet he entered and dialed 62442. The dial whirled smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in his hand. It was as loud and clear as if the woman was there.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic Please state your name and business."

This being Harry's first time using the visitors entrance he briefly wondered if he should talk into the receiver or just state it to the air, he compromised by speaking into the mouthpiece.

"Special Agent Harry Black, Department of Extranormal Operations." A light smirk graced his lips. "Capture and Interrogation of-"

"Thank You." said the cool female voice. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

There was a click and a rattle as it produced the tiny square silver badge that said: Harry Black, Capture & Interrogation. He pinned it to the front of his coat, not really seeing a point to it.

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

The floor of the telephone box shuddered, as it began sinking slowly into the ground. Harry watched apprehensively as the pavement rose up the glass windows of the telephone box until the darkness closed over his head. Then he could see nothing at all; he could only hear a dull grinding noise as the telephone made its way into the earth. After about a minute, it felt much longer for Harry his discomfort for closed spaces hadn't really left him, a chink of golden light illuminated his feet and, widening, rose up his body until it hit him in the face forcing him to blink, stopping his eyes from watering. "The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant stay."

The Atrium was for lack of a better word, gaudy. Especially after replacing the old gold statues with statues that depicted fallen heroes from across the ages like Merlin, Dumbledore, and Morgana la Fay. The water crashed at their feet making the sight even more awe inspiring. The noise of the water touching stone drowned out most of people in the Atrium. Harry followed the mass off wizards and witches towards a golden gate. To the left of the gate there was a desk with a wooden plaque the read SECURITY hung over it, sitting behind it was Hannah Abbot; her golden hair clashed slightly with the light blue robes. Harry remembered her from the Dumbledore's Army list, Umbridge liked rubbing her victories in Harry's face; she was under some delusion that he was associated with Dumbledore in some plot orchestrated to corrupt noble pureblood families. He laughed to her face, not one of his wisest moments. "Hello." He greeted, half smiling

"Hi, please step over here." She beckoned him closer. She passed a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, over his front and back. "Wand." Harry nodded, drawing it from the holster on the sleeve. Hannah took it and dropped it onto a machine that looked like a scale but with one dish. It began vibrating and shortly after a slip of paper slipped out. "Twelve and a half inches, Ash, thestral hair core, been in use for sixteen year. Is that correct?"

"Spot on."

"I keep this." She said impaling the slip onto a small brass pike. "You get this back." She said handing Harry his wand back. "Have a nice day."

Harry wasn't really surprised that she didn't recognize him, they share two classes and never talked to each other outside of them. So Harry tipped his cap at her and went on his with his life.

Once situated inside an elevator he gently tapped the button that would take him to the eighth floor. It went back and the shot up at a high velocity. He enjoyed the relative silence, not much else to do, except drift into thought. Those thoughts circulated mostly on his brother, the famous Boy-Who-Lived. Personally he thought he was an idiot. Not much could be said about Charles really; he had a fiery temper and tended to act before he thought. He looked like their mother with their fathers eyes. The first time they met he had purposely bumped into him after the sorting, and things gradually got worse from there on. He chuckled slightly pulling out a silver coin from his pants pocket, the only reason they even talked was because Sirius, bless his soul, locked them in a room during the summer before the fifth year.  
Harry missed Sirius, why wouldn't he? The man was the closest thing to a father figure Harry had. Of course, it drove James Potter mad that his son would prefer his godparent over his actual parent; maybe it had something to do with Sirius visiting Privet Drive regularly, striking fear into Petunia and Vernon, or it had to do with him just being there for him despite what Dumbledore ordered. Hell, by the time he was in his third year he spent more time in Grimmauld Place than he did at Privet Drive. Sirius even taught him how to fly a broom. Honestly if it hadn't been for Sirius Harry would probably be a very, very angsty bastard. There were six dings before he reached the second floor.

Once he stepped out of the elevator Harry let the coin drop and in an instant he was surrounded by seven individual dressed in black full tactical gear. They wore riot masks and the only ounce of color was a single red armband they wore on their dominant arm, DEO printed in large black letters. He didn't know their names and that was alright; they were there to do a job just like he was. Harry pulled an arrest warrants signed by the head of the ICW and the Prime Minister from his coat pocket along with his identification. Harry took a deep breath before shoving the heavy set oak doors. The auror office froze as the doors flew open; Harry entered with a blank expression the other agents pulled up behind him weapons aimed at different points of the room. Harry opened the warrants. "I am Special Agent Black. I am with the Department of Extranormal Operations. Now if the following two individuals would be kind enough to step forward, it would be largely appreciated. Albert Runcorn and Gawain Robards."

Runcorn made his way to the door with an air of superiority befitting the man everybody knew as the "Inquisitor". Harry smiled conjuring a pair of handcuffs. "Albert Runcorn, I am placing you under arrest for the open violation of the statute of secrecy and aiding and abetting known criminal Jonathan Crane. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned about something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence." Truth be told the statute of secrecy was an outdated law that mostly affected Europe and really wasn't applicable, but nothing silenced Ministry officials quite like it. Before Runcorn could get a word out edge wise, Robards burst out of his office wand out ready.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Well, well, so you're the Head Auror." Harry tilted his head. "You, my unlucky friend, have been implicated in some rather lucrative dealing across the pond." Robards' face took on a mask of confusion and quickly shifted to rage which Harry ignored. "Now I find it you have three options: the first, you leave in cuffs with some semblance of pride, the second, I disarm you and drag you out by the hair, the third, you become a rather religious man." With the enforcers leveling rifles at his person, it didn't take long for him to catch Harry's drift.

"I doubt the Minister Shacklebolt signed off on this." As a matter of fact Shacklebolt had no idea that Harry was in the Ministry, the ICW just wanted him to make the arrest with minimal expenses.

"I respond to a higher power. Now; you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned about something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence." The old war hawk seemed like he was going to shoot him with a curse, but was stopped when another auror, a grisly man Harry had seen at Hogwarts during fifth year, twisted his arm until he released his wand. Say what you want about aurors, most of them are loyal bastards until you betray them, then they're rather vindictive and to be honest no one likes a dirty authority figure. "Thank you for your assistance." Harry smiled, the auror had given him a rather useful tool for the coming interrogation. Harry was not gentle when it came to restraining the former head auror, twisting the already wounded arm to his back then shoving him towards the armed escort. Harry expected one of them to run, which would have made his visit to this world all the more interesting, maybe even worth it. "Alright gents, time to leave."

Apparently in lieu of running they just couldn't shut up.

"I have the right to face my accuser!"

"I'm sure you do." Harry said pocketing while his credentials. "Right now though, these boys will be taking you into custody." Harry looked up locking eyes with Hermione Granger, Deputy Director of the DMLE, and beside her stood the stony faced star of the auror office Charles Potter. Granger in Harry's opinion was a decent sort of Gryffindor, she punched Malfoy which made her alright in his book. She wasn't really antagonistic during the years at Hogwarts and actually helped him with his schoolwork. "Can I help you, ma'am?" Ignoring Charles' presence wasn't difficult, it was a skill he had sharpened over the years.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Yes. You can tell me what you're doing with my aurors and under who's authority?" she asked hotly.

"Well the first one is rather simple." Harry said. "I'm arresting them. The second is rather complicated. I work for the DEO, I'm not sure that you've heard of us. No? That's alright, not many people have. Simply put we stop the paranormal, your normal, from negatively affecting the mundane populace. And those two have helped cause some of the greatest tragedies of our time." Lie, there were contributing but that was the extent of their involvement. "As to who authorized this operation…that would be Director Bones and the chairman of the ICW. "

"Why wasn't I informed?"

"You'll have to take it up with them, I'm just a footman." Fact: in the eyes of the ICW Britain's Auror Office was considered compromised since 1971. Of course, when surrounded by said aurors Harry found it rather prudent not to mention it. "Now if that's all-"

"Where the hell have you been!" Charles asked, barely holding his anger back. Harry heard the tale tell whooshing sound of a portkey being activated; he clearly appreciated the good sense those men had leaving him to deal with his brother…really he did, they had a time frame and they needed to extract the information as soon as possible. Sadly, Harry was sure he'd miss the interrogation.

"Last week…Munich, arresting a deranged vampire; Next Venice, tracking Killer Croc and arresting him. Yesterday, catching up with an old friend." Harry smiled. "Brilliant exorcist, by the way, name's Const-."

"Mum's been worried about you." Charles interrupted.

"Yeah, got that from the howler this morning."

"She hasn't seen you in over a year, Harry." He hadn't been in the United Kingdom in over a year so that made sense.

"I have work, Potter. Can't take breaks when none are there to take."

"Then make some time! Dad's busy most of the bloody year teaching and he finds a way. I'm a decorated auror and I have plenty of time to visit."

"Well that's fine and dandy, but I don't." Harry was starting to get annoyed.

"What the bloody hell's wrong with you?!"

"Ask your father or maybe just ask yourself." Harry turned to Hermione and handed her a copy of the warrants. He forced a smile. "Ma'am, if you excuse me I have to talk with your Minister." He turned to Charles. "Tell them to stop pestering me, Potter. If we meet on the street, fine, outside of that I have a decent amount of shit to do." Harry walked calmly away; walking past a rather shocked Tonks and a blistering Ron Weasley. He stepped onto the lift and hit the button marked 1st floor. He glared ever so slightly at Charles as it ascended,

  
xxxx

The sky hadn't cleared up by the time Harry exited the Ministry but the rain had stopped, which was a shame nothing felt better than a cold pint of butterbeer on a rainy day. Harry flashed down a cab. "Time in a Bottle, please." Harry rested his head on the glass. His eyes felt heavy, arguing with Charles, Kingsley, and Hermione just zapped the energy away from him. "Maybe…just for a second." He closed his them as the echoes of memory haunted him.

-Flashback-

Harry made his way slowly to the front of the line as Professor McGonagall called his name. Fear coursed through his spine as the possibility that he wouldn't be sorted into any of the Houses circulated in his mind. It was an irrational fear; Sirius had already reassured him that the hat would sort him where he would grow best. He trusted the man; sure Harry knew him for little under a year but he trusted him. He nearly tripped over himself as he passed a boy with brown eyes and vibrant red hair. When he finally sat down he was stock still. He could feel his heart pounding through his ears as the hat came closer to his head.

"Hmm, difficult. VERY difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh yes. And a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you?" it asked. To Harry it honestly didn't matter.

"Anywhere."

"Eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It's all here in your head. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, there's no doubt about that. How about it?"

"Yes."

"Well if you're sure, better be…. SLYTHERIN!" Harry could feel a smile split his face as the table cheered. He made his way to the end of the table where a girl with straight brown hair and a welcoming smile sat and a girl with blonde hair and cold eyes sat.

The welcoming girl extended her hand and introduced herself. "Tracy Davis."

"Harry Potter." Harry took it slightly unsure

She then pointed to the blonde. "That's Daphne. I have a feeling, like we're going to be great friends." Harry couldn't stop smiling at the thought. Little did young Harry know that he would lose it soon after.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat before calling the next name. "Charles Potter."

-End Flashback

Harry's eyes slowly opened just as the cab came to a stop. 'Why can't I dream like everyone else?' He pondered, not for the first time. Then he remembered what Mad-Eye had answered him once: 'Because nothing is as cruel as memory, lad.' Harry chuckled. He was too naïve to truly understand it back then. Harry paid the driver his due and exited. The old pub was rumored to have been enchanted by Merlin himself so that enemies and friends could find themselves in true neutral ground; no man could harm another once inside, but that was impossible considering it was built in the sixteenth century. The truce magic prevents tailings and fighting, and when a person leaves it drops people in different parts of the city to avoid conflict where one or both parties are thoroughly shit-faced. The first time he came to the pub it was his fifteenth birthday, that night's highlight was good snog with Squire. It didn't last the night, but they were still good friends.

It was the first Thursday of the month, so most of the old crowd was there. The heroes, the villains, the legacies, and a few new rogues. Milkman was already harassing a few newcomers, Knight was conversing with British Joker, Squire was hanging around the bar staring at the dent left by Aleister Crowley's 'bonce' as she liked to call it. Harry hung his coat and placed his cap on the rack leaving him with a vest and a tie. No one worried about the gun, everybody knew he couldn't use it; hell Blind Fury blew him a kiss. He ignored the taunt in favor sneaking in next to Squire. Harry slid up next to her and leaned in. "So I was thinking if the DEO thing doesn't work out what do you think of taking the Nite Owl cowl for a spin?" Squire nearly jumped out her seat. Knight politely laughed; in Harry's opinion the man was too posh for his own good.

"Bloody hell, Harry you scared me half to death, you tosser." She glared behind her mask. "You're lucky we're in here or your balls would be so sorry."

"Oi, don't blame me. If I've told you once I've told you a thousand and one times: Constant Vigilance." He mock defended, a small smile adorned his face.

"Oh, shut up and give me a hug you." Harry complied, resisting the urge to give her a twirl. "Anyway where have you been?"

"Around the world, twice over." He said casually. "The department's kept me busy."

"Right, Extranomal Operations, has anyone told you it's a stupid name?"

"Well Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense is trademarked, bloody comics and their copyrights." Harry responded hotly, raising his fist for added enfaces. That got a laugh from a few eavesdroppers. "Anyway, you've heard from Lennox?"

"Not really. Last time I saw him he kept talking about the winds or some such."

Harry chuckled. "I just know that's code for more work, or me."

"Probably." Squire shot a look at Knight and slowly guided Harry to a corner booth, Knight was retelling stories from his time as Squire to his so called nemesis; he didn't notice. "Any news on You-Know-Who?"

"Voldemort? He's been dead a few years now." Squire crossed her arms and glared. The barman dropped a glass of firewhiskey for him and pint for Squire. "Jack's been keeping his head down after a stint in Gotham, Batwoman hit him hard, but he escaped into Slaughter Swamp…there's a good chance he's dead, either Grundy squashed his skull or a banshee killed him. Whichever came first really." He downed his drink in one practiced gulp; he opened his mouth wide feeling the burn coming back up and locked up a small jet of fire erupted from his mouth. "But I wouldn't put it past him if he somehow got away."

"Right." She let out a breath of disappointment. Her eyes looked beyond Harry and widened ever so slightly. "An older you just came in and he's coming this way."

"Want to try snogging until he goes away?" Harry wagged his brows suggestively.

"That never works."

"So you have tried it." Harry teased in an attempt to soak up the remainder of his good mood while he still could. "In that case you better leave, Lord Potter and I are gonna share some words, a few shouldn't be said in the presence of a lady like yourself."

"Don't get all posh with me now, Harry. If you want me to buzz off for a bit you just had to say it." She left the booth as James Potter sat down. Harry and James had a history, words were exchanged, blame was placed, curses were flung, and not exactly in that order. Squire waved at Harry from across the bar, a reassurance if there ever was one.

"James." Harry greeted curtly.

"Harry." He greeted in return, a smile on his face.

"What do you want, James?" Harry closed his eyes feeling the headache Kingsley gave him coming back with a vengeance.

"Just talk, to ease Lily a bit."

Harry forced a smile. "We've already said what had to be said, James." It was a jab, plain and simple.

"No, I don't think we did."

"Really? I explicitly remember you accusing me of being a Death Eater and having a role in my GODFATHER'S murder." Harry said pleasantly, with that overly sweet tone that oozed loathing. A Cheshire cat grin plastered on his face.

"Harry…I was in a dark place."

"So was I, for about a decade." Harry shot back. "And then came the war, which my association to you and being a Slytherin painted me as target for both sides, took two of the most important people in my life. So tell me James: where were you in this darkness?"

"That's unfair Harry. What your mother and I did was to protect both of your brother and you; and we had no say in which House you were sorted into."

"It shouldn't have mattered what house I was sorted into." Harry was plainly irritated, though he tried to maintain a mask of civility since he was in public and as an agent of the DEO he had an image to maintain. "You and yours painted me as a traitor since Voldemort's resurrection, but that just showed me the type of wizard you are; a prideful tit. You couldn't stand Sirius being the father figure so you lashed out at him; you couldn't stand failing so you blamed it on someone else. So, in my book there's nothing left to say." Harry stood up not wanting to stick around for the reply.

"Lily's pregnant."

"That does tend to happen when you have sex." Harry replied, putting on his coat. He honestly didn't see how that affected him in the slightest, when he told Charles that he was too busy to visit it wasn't just to piss him the fuck off; there weren't that many agents in the DEO left; a hundred or so field agents, and twice as many trained response units.

"She's been doubting herself, Harry. Because of you, because she feels like she drove you away." James sighed tiredly, his hand moves to cover his eyes. "God knows it wasn't her doing, but there are so many if's they're driving her mad." He drops his hand, and looked at Harry with pleading eyes. "I know you don't think that we have any right to ask anything of you. But please, talk to her."

For a long while Harry stood still. Squire seemed ready to act, but waited for any indication that he needed help. "How'd you find me?" He finally asked.

"Harry…"

"How did you find me?" he asked a tad bit more forcefully.

"This used to be one of Sirius' usual haunts, back in the day." He accepted the response, so Harry walked over to the barman and put a galleon on the counter. HE then walked over to Squire and handed his card over to her.

"Next time I see you better have been Knighted or Dame in your case." He looked at James one more time as he put on his cap and coat. The man was staring at the booth's table disappointment clear. "Make sure he gets home, or I won't hear the end of it…" Fucking Archie, a Great Gray Owl with an attitude, could find him roaming through Hades if the case ever came. No doubt Charles was already writing a myriad of howlers and that finger biting bastard, with his smug ass look, was ready to deliver them, ready to steal Hedwig's hard earned treats. Alright, maybe he was exaggerating a tad bit but he was certain that owl derived some measure of pleasure from his misery.

Anyway, Harry made his way to the door and stepped outside, in a poof of magic he found himself on Westcombe Avenue, not far from where he really needed to go.

xxxx

The moon was full that night and the wind had a bit more bite to it than usual, but it didn't bother Harry. He kneeled in front of a close friend's grave. She was tan years dead, but he still remembered her to the smallest detail. Her straight brown hair, her cheesy jokes and especially the crappy soap she washed herself with, made her smell like a pumpkin, but she loved it. Harry traced the letters slowly. "Sorry I haven't been around for while Tracy. You know, that promise I made to you? I'm keeping it the best I can, love, but it's hard." He smiled sadly. "Wish you were here to see it though, new heroes popping up every other day, it's actually sort of fun."

He stopped. He could feel something watching him and chances were whoever it was watching him wasn't entirely friendly. This is where the gauntlets come into play, they drew magic from Harry, creating an invisible bubble like sphere. Harry continued to chat with the headstone. The air shifted it direction and he caught a whiff of wet dog. Harry spun in its direction pulling out his gun and fired two bullets. There was a yelp of pain before the figure stepped into the light; its name was once Fenir Greyback but it had lost its humanity long ago. The wolf stood a head taller than Harry, and was missing most of its hair allowing one to see the scars that marred its skin. Harry got off two more shots before the beast crashed against the shield. The shield could only hold so much force before it gave in The scarred agent pulled out his wand and leveled it at the creature's head. "Incendio!" It ducked his head, but the spell singed its back. "Confringo!" Greyback managed to evade, but was disoriented by the following explosion. "Defodio!" a bolt of white light shot into Greyback's arm and an instant later, pieces of muscle decorated the graveyard. "You're not getting away, Mutt!" The Beast howled once before retreating into the darkness, Harry gave instantly gave chase, fearing that it would infect some poor member of the populace.

Greyback was definitely one of the reasons he hated coming home to the UK. Ever since the creature mauled his face it just showed up during the most inopportune times. It had to be a bloody wolf thing, it just had to. Greyback ducked into the trees with a resounding howl it disappeared into the brush. Harry followed but when he came upon a street the beast was long gone. "Fuck!" Harry cursed. It wasn't long before he heard the feint sound of apparition coming from the cemetery. The aurors would be swarming the place soon, and Harry was certain he didn't want deal with his brother twice in one day. Harry closed his eyes and quickly apparated away.

Xxxx

Harry apparated ten miles away on Mitre square. The square was empty except for the odd Ripperologist examining the southwest corner of the square searching for some clue that the police missed a hundred and nineteen years ago. Harry chuckled lightly at the sight. "Human obsession, is such a wonderful thing."

Harry disappeared into a nearby alley. He stopped at the second trashcan. Harry tapped the wall with his wand. There was a shimmer before the wall began to split into the shape of a door. An easy trick that helped when it came to security, unlike the entrance to Diagon Alley this one was keyed into the core of his wand. Harry stepped into the dark corridor and slowly made his way through the darkness. An impressively sized man stood next to the main elevator; he was four inches taller than Harry, who was approximately 5'9. No matter how intimidating he looked William Crow was possibly more terrifying when he spoke, deep growly sounding voice, but the man himself…nice enough…as long as he had a tabloid in his hand, sadly the tabloid was nowhere in sight. "Evening, William." He completely ignored Harry, instead focused his vision at the far wall. Harry gave him an odd look as he entered the elevator, usually there was a growl in response. After a short elevator ride Harry came face to face with a grey haired woman with bloodshot eyes and a blue scarf hiding some seriously disturbing scars. They called her the Morrigan; she was one of many unsung heroes of the World War Two, since she was the head of the Europe branch, none of the agents had the pleasure of knowing her name.

"Agent Black."

"Ma'am."

"There has been a development that requires your immediate attention, follow me." Normally, another agent would pass the mission down the grapevine; the fact the head of the branch was coming to him directly worried Harry a bit. The director guided him into her office; she shut the door behind him with a gentle wave of her hand. "Earlier today, the Delacour family was attacked while visiting one Jacob Kane. The perpetrator was easily identified by the local law enforcement as Jervis Tech, more commonly known as the Mad Hatter." She pulled a file from her desk and handed it to Harry. "Jervis is a preferential offender, sadly young Gabrielle Delacour, twenty-one, and her niece Victoire Weasley, seven, seem fit his fantasy." Harry opened the file and grimaced at the sheer brutality, the victims suffered disembowelment and by the expressions on their faces they were very much alive and very much awake when they were gutted, weapon, a long serrated knife. "He holds onto them for at least three days before killing them." She opened her top drawer, she rummaged through for half a minute before she finally found what she was looking for. She placed the object on the desk, a gold pen. "This is your portkey, it will take you directly to Gotham International. It activates in an hour, be ready."

Harry couldn't argue with her, no one could really argue with the Morrigan, when she ordered something done it was done; or Harry would be buried so deep he wouldn't see the light of day for the next decade.

Harry nodded and made his way over to the bullpen, there was one other agent in it, Miranda something or another. Harry went over to his desk and grabbed his leather satchel, from the outside it was thin and looked rather empty this was part of a simple expanding charm he learned at Hogwarts, with Hermione's help of course. It held a number of books, changes of clothing for all occasions, and two swords for the odd duel, not that he actually knew how to duel…nor would he use those swords if ever had to duel. Sin and Salvation were two very nasty things and tended to do as much damage to him as it did his enemies. Harry gave one more look around his desk for anything he could use and found nothing; he hadn't had the time to get comfortable with the Whitechapel. He missed Germany…they at least had great food. He sighed, he got breaks in Germany. Harry apparated away.

He apparated inside number 12 Grimmauld Place, happily intact. "Kreacher!" he called and the mangy house elf pop in front of him. Sneering at him like he always did.

What can Kreacher do for Master?"

"Pack my trunk. I'll be leaving in exactly forty five minutes." Harry made to raid the pantry for a few potions, but stopped. "And Kreacher throw in some books with tracking spells." Harry ran up to the master bedroom, Harry ordered Hedwig to her cage, she barked at him and nipped at his fingers before complying. Harry started adding extra security. "Salvio Hexi, Protego totalum, Repello Muggletum." He knew he was being paranoid, but on the off chance that Daphne accidentally mentions the location of his home, he wanted them to be greeted with a few damaging spells if nothing else. The charms took half an hour to complete, when he was finally done he heard a rasping sound coming from the window. He opened it to find a small brown Indian Scops owl with two letters attached to its leg. "Why, hello there Nemo." Harry said carefully stroking his head. Nemo, named after the famous pirate who lived in the nineteenth century not the animated fish, belonged to his closest living friend Daphne Greengrass. He took both letters the first had the seal of House Greengrass and was in papyrus, the other was rather standard issue wizarding mail variety. Deciding to open Daphne's first, Harry opened her letter with caution, papyrus was the preferred parchment for important documents for the simple reason that it could carry a number of hexes should the wrong, and in some rare cases right, people opened them. After a while of nothing significant happening harry pulled the letter out from the envelope.

'Dear Harry,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, if not I hope you recuperate enough that you will finally grace us with your esteemed presence the following meeting. Your goddaughter is turning four next month. I expect you to bring a date or face my very disappointed mother.

Now that that's over with; news on the home front, your stunt at the Ministry caused a rather large ripple in the Wizengamot! I had to listen to that old crone Longbottom screech about you audacity for nearly an hour! What were you thinking?! You're lucky Angelica loves you or I would have cursed your face into oblivion! Marietta Edgecombe would look better than you! That being said she still hasn't been able to remove those zits, it's disgusting. Heard from Lord Potter that his wife's pregnant and that your brother and Weasley have managed to conceive! My poor Angel will have to go to Hogwarts with their spawn!

Owl me back, as soon as possible.

Daphne Greengrass.

P.S. Do you have any idea why werewolves' blood was found near Tracy's grave?

Harry chuckled slightly. Angelica was Daphne's only daughter before becoming a widow at the age of twenty-two, she looked exactly like her mother and seemed to inherit nothing from poor departed Philip. He was tragically declared the first known victim of the Crumpled Horned Snorlak, on a lighter note Luna dutifully resumed searching for the creature after losing hope in its existence.

'Dear Daph,

Sorry for the short letter. I wouldn't miss it for the world.  
I'll be in the US for a while.

Give Angelica my love,  
Your friend,

Harry.

He tied the letter to Nemo's leg and shooed him away. Harry pocketed the second letter without much forethought. He proceeded to lock every entryway possible and closed all the doors. He wouldn't have this sanctuary defiled by some idiot out to get him. Harry made his way back to the front door where the ancient house elf had left his trunk.

'13…10…7…4…1' He counted down silently; it was an irrational fear he knew, portkeys had a seven percent mortality rate, low to some but it was there. There was that feeling of weightlessness before the spinning came, he felt like a ragdoll in a whirlwind. A few minutes passed before Gotham International Airport came into view as well as it fast approaching side walk. Muggles, as Harry had learned at a young age never paid much attention to anything that didn't affect them, and so Harry was glad when he wasn't noticed, at least by the civilian population. The Detective on the other hand, Harry certain that the Bat already knew was in Gotham.

What could Harry say? They had different views when it came to the world and the Bat was too territorial for his own good. Harry found a clean bench while he waited for whoever the Morrigan sent to pick him up, he sifted through the paper until he found transcripts between Tetch and Doctor Hugo Strange, currently on the run after evidence was discovered of his involvement in the murders of several patients during his years at the Asylum.

Strange: Patient interview one. Subject's name, Jervis Tetch A.K.A. The Mad Hatter. Brought to Arkham Asylum by Batman six months ago. Patient exhibits signs of obsessive compulsion and paranoid schitzophrenia. Sit down Mr. Tetch.  
Tetch: No time to sit. I need Alice. Where is my Alice?  
Strange: Please.  
Tetch: No time to sit, no time to chat. I'm searching for Alice and I've lost my hat.  
Strange: Guard. Restrain Mr. Tetch.  
Tetch: (struggling) Get off me! I'm late. I'm running out of time, Alice. Where are you?  
Strange: Alice isn't here yet. Just relax, Jervis. She will be here soon.  
Tetch: But-(starts gibbering)  
Strange: (over Tetch's gibbering) I promise. Now. Would you like some tea?

The mind, man's greatest weapon in the hands of an a moral sociopath like Strange was always a dangerous thing. Harry flipped pages until he found the second part of the interview.

Tetch: Is Alice here yet?  
Strange: No, I'm afraid not. Let us talk while we wait. You and I have much in common, Jervis.  
Tetch: Really? Do you know Alice too?  
Strange: Unfortunately not. You and I share an interest in the mind, do we not? I studied your papers, Jervis. You were quite brilliant. Truly, an extraordinary mind.  
Tetch: Oh, it doesn't matter. It's all just chemicals, and synapses and rabbits and (voice breaks) oh, where is Alice?  
Strange: You need to focus. Think about your work for a minute. You theorized that there is no such thing as free will. That you can change a man's allegiances, his motives, emotions, all what we believe makes a man, with formula was really quite brilliant. That's why I used it.  
Tetch: (stammers) How did you get it? Did Alice give it to you? Wicked girl! Nasty little thing! Is she here yet?  
Strange: Soon, Jervis. Soon.  
Tetch: Where is she? Oh, you told me that Alice would be here.  
Strange: She is, Jervis. She's right here.  
Tetch: Alice? (sings) Alice come out. Don't pout. Don't make me shout. Alice come out. Where are you?  
Strange: (takes out photos) Take a look at the pictures, Jervis.  
Tetch: (stammers) Who are these people?  
Strange: Look again.  
Tetch: I don't know who they are! Oh, please, is Alice here or not?  
Strange: Look at the first picture. Look at the dress she's wearing. Look at the hair. It's Alice isn't it?  
Tetch: No, no, no, it can't be Alice. Alice has nice yellow hair and...(starts crying) and isn't covered in blood.  
Strange: I think you know exactly who this is, Mr. Tetch. I think you remember the night you lured Stephanie Williams back to your research lab. How you offered her tea. What happened to her then?  
Tetch: No, no. No!  
Strange: (over Hatter's babbling) You killed her, didn't you? She was the first. It's okay, Jervis. It's alright to remember. How many Alices were there?  
Tetch: (crying) I can't remember.

Jervis Tetch was a creature habit, he wouldn't risk going far with two Veela and risk gbeing spotted by the wrong people, so he wouldn't be going far, he wouldn't risk Alice's safety by going into the Underground, he wouldn't survive there let alone with a kid and a full grown Veela. He sighed ever so deeply. He'd have to talk to the Delacours as well as the Brood, and maybe even his brother if he was unlucky enough.

Harry felt a presence directly in front of him it was a woman with rather regal barring with her blonde hair cut short Her hands rested on her hips as she scrutinized Harry. Her tired blue eyes spoke of long nights and horrors she witnessed inside them. The woman Harry knew through reputation alone, her exploits in Metropolis as well as Gotham had made her into a legend in the law enforcement community. "Captain Margaret Sawyer, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I wouldn't call it a pleasure, your colleague 'asked' me to pick you up and take you to the Royal."

"Colleague?"

"Agent Chase." Just when he thought things couldn't get more difficult. Cameron Chase was a good agent, there wasn't a doubt in his mind about that. She was, however, a shit human being. She lived by an absolute code; the ends justify the means. Which is great when you want something done fast and don't care who you end up pissing off, unfortunately Cameron had an eighty nine percent success rate when it came to leaving sour memories with the local law. Bones liked her, and he doesn't really like anyone. She led him to a black and white squad car, the familiar scent of old coffee radiated from its upholstery.

"Ah, sorry about that."

"No problem," She said dismissively. "I already have my hands full with another case. Ever heard of a Weeping Woman?"

"Latin American legend about a woman that drowned her kids." Harry remarked absently as he put the Hatter's file away in his satchel. "She can't get into heaven without her children. So she takes other people's children, as a substitute."

"Legend depicts a banshee, you have witnesses. Doesn't add up, but if the kids are the target…"

Harry thought it over for a second. "I can name a few organizations that could summon something like that…but I haven't heard of any operating out of Gotham. Monsters like it are only as powerful as the fear people have for them." The car pulled onto the Pioneer's Bridge heading south towards the Gotham Royal. "Think of them as symbol, like your Batman, they inspire a paralyzing level of skill that is used to exploit weakness."

"You said you could name a few organizations?"

"Sure, could name a number, but I know people, and judging by your excellent reputation, you and I are very much alike, we're a rare breed of hunting dogs, if we find a scent that tickles our fancy we don't stop, we can not stop until we have captured our quarry." The following silence deafened the car for a few minutes until finally reaching Royal. The captain parked in front of one of the cities more premier establishments. Building of said monument to the founding families began as joint venture between the Kane family, who built the East tower, and the Wayne family, who built the west. Harry had learned this from his beloved goddaughter, who dreams to be the greatest of architects. Harry looked over at Sawyer and weighed his options. Technically he wasn't endangering any investigations if he off handedly mentioned groups with enough magical power to summon a banshee that does not kill, but the Morrigan would be rightly pissed, and Merlin knows what the woman would do to him. Either way, Harry found himself rightly pinched between a rock and a fireball. "You didn't hear it from me." Harry started, in the long run he found a few favors owed would balance out whatever his boss could and would do to him. "Off the top of my head I can think of two that could have an interest in Gotham. The Church of Blood and the Religion of Crime have made moves in the past, but they've been quiet for a long time, but you know cults. They like playing from the shadows and catch us unawares." He paused, contemplating if he should get into the ins and outs of summoning with a muggle, but ultimately decided against it. "The how and why, I can't answer, maybe your Bat has more answers." The cold air hit him like quaffle thrown by Alicia Spinnet after one of Malfoy's in-game quips, There wasn't much else to say, Sawyer like Harry, had an impressive level of stubbornness about; she would never ask for help…but she wouldn't reject it if it were offered. Harry tipped his cap to Sawyer and made his way to the front desk. Amazingly enough the media hadn't caught wind of the kidnappings, if they had a sea of reporters from Witch Weekly to the Gotham Herald would be swamping the lobby. The lobby was divided into two floors, gargoyles watched perched from the darkened corners. Normally the hotel hosted a large number of rich and high ranking people that wished to expand into the war zone known as Gotham, and from past experience he knew well that most of them enjoyed flaunting their wealth in the lobby. The fact that it was barren except for the odd police officer or staff spoke volumes of the sheer level of fear they were experiencing. Harry walked silently but purposely across the lobby towards the elevator, according to the file the family had been moved to the penthouse for their protection.

Just as he entered the lift Harry found himself tackling a yawn. There was always something that would drag him away from sleep, he made sure of it. With sleep came dreams and dreams tended to lead him down the trail of memories. Harry leaned against the wall and stared at his reflection with bored eyes. He kept his hair short and his body fit, he had kept his round glasses, but what really caught his attention were his eyes, they always did. Dumbledore had once told Harry how the eyes were a window to the soul, and Harry knew that it was true, he claimed that inside of Harry there was a special kind darkness; the type of darkness that he had seen in men and women much older than Harry, men and women that stared into the abyss, found the courage to jump into it and managed to scrape the bottom. Back then Harry thought the man mad, but in the present he could only think how Dumbledore was wrong. Working for the DEO had taught him something; No matter how dark or how depraved the abyss around the person is only breaching the surface.

Harry's silent contemplation was interrupted when the elevator came to a stop. The door opened to reveal a black marble hallway, at the end of it was a large golden door. There were a few decorative and most likely endangered plants in large white pots. There were noises coming from behind the door, which gave Harry good idea how many people were behind the door. Part of him wanted to press the button that would take him back to the lobby and get his answers from a more reliable source like Cobblepot, but procedure dictated he talk with potential witnesses. With a sigh, he made his way to the door, his right hand twirling his wand leisurely. He raised his right fist preparing to knock, but the door flew open and a teary eyed Fleur Delacure shot past him, while an angered Bill Weasley was shouting at it his mother. Ginny sat with her arm wrapped around Charles. It was actually Ron who spotted him, his face still covered in blisters, but that didn't stop him from launching himself across the room. Oh, the memories. Ron had always assumed Harry was a Death Eater and to the day he still hated him, Lavander Brown had used harry to brake things off, and by use he meant grabbing Harry while he was discussing brooms with Cho Chang and snogging him while Ronald was in the hall. She tasted like butterbeer.

Harry for all didn't consider himself a violent man, he only employed it when necessary, and so he found no qualms with smashing his free hand against Ron's skull. In retrospect; A) Ron probably thought Harry was there because he somehow, magically had something to do with it, and, B) Punching Ron in a room of highly volatile people was not a good idea. Harry put his left foot on Ron's dense skull and turned to smile at the actual two witnesses. Alexander Delacure and Apolline. "Hello, I'm Agent Black, and I'm with the DEO"

Charles was quick to disentangle himself from Ginny. "What are you doing here?" He demanded. Clearly still affronted from their early morning spat.

"Isn't it obvious?" Harry responded. "I'm working."

  
  



	2. Down the Rabbit hole

Chapter II: Down the Rabbit Hole.

I don't own Harry Potter or DC comics.

"Let us step into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."- Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

o0o0o0o0o

There was a moment of silence as the two brothers stared each other down, meeting twice in one day felt like some type of cosmic joke. They were like two forces of nature ready to collide at the slightest amount of provocation. It came to Harry's great surprise that Ginerva Weasley, Gryffindor's resident firebrand, was the first to advocate for peace. She sent Charles this uniquely scorching glare that spoke volumes in the tense silence; it clearly read 'There's a time and a place', which to Harry's great amusement actually made the little shit back down. Of course that didn't stop Molly Weasley from making a scene. The rather…plump woman was red faced with anger, to which Harry attributed to his foot pressing down on her youngest son's thick skull. "Harry James Potter!" She wailed.

"Black." He corrected reflexively, removing his foot from Ron's bruised face. It was bit of pet peeve for Harry, when someone got his name wrong, well not wrong since by law he was still a Potter, but really! He was the lord of House Black! A little respect was he was asking for.

Molly, was a woman Harry knew to be rather volatile when it came to her family (and a myriad of small things that no wise man would dare delve into), took the correction as a challenge she huffed before drawing a long breath. "How dare you! You come here without being invited and proceed to strike my son! You have no right! I ought to hex you out this window"

Harry fought the urge to start quoting some of his favorite films, most if not all of them would go over someone's head and worsen the current situation. Luckily for Harry, Apolline Delacure had just about enough of the Weasley's and got into Molly's face and would resolve the situation peacefully. "HOW DARE YOU!" The half veela's creature traits started marring her features. "You insult MY family! Drive my eldest daughter away with you insensitivity and now you threaten the man in charge of finding them? "

Or not.

Harry had met Apolline three times through out his life; twice during his fourth year at Hogwarts, and during Fleur's wedding, and every time he saw her he never got the impression that she was a shouter, he always felt she was like Andromeda, the type that sounded so deathly calm that when angered few people would actually dare talk back to them. Harry steadied his wand, in case one or both of the matriarchs decided dueling in a muggle hotel was a good idea. Luckily Arthur was of a calmer head and pulled Molly away and into what he hoped was a calming hug. "We're all just upset, Harry." Tried to explain, and Harry tried to empathize; what if a maniac tried to do the same to Angelica…he'd level a city for the girl. Alexander pulled Apolline back into her chair, and all the while she continued to glare at Molly

Arthur herded his family out leaving Harry with the two Delacures, or Harry assumed, so he wouldn't put it above Charles to hide using the family cloak and spy on them. "Now…tell me about the events leading up to the attack." As nice as it would be to console the family, time was of the essence. Taking a chair across from the couple, Alexander was the first to start. For a time the man kept blaming himself, better said, torturing himself with the 'what if' and the 'What could I have done/'.

"I didn't know anything was wrong, a server came in with a kettle of tea. A girl with white hair and violet eyes, she never gave us her name…" He tried to explain. To Harry, a seasoned investigator for one of the most prestigious departments in both mundane and magical law enforcement, something smelled, literally, it was hidden in their breath, a sweet herbal concoction that reminded him of the bile Umbridge forced down his throat during his fifth year.

"Did you order the tea?"

"Yes, in fact we did," Apolline answered. "Gabby wanted a warm drink after visiting the Cyrus Pinkney Museum."

"Did anything catch your eye, anything at all? Was there someone paying more attention to Gabrielle than they normally should?"

"Agent Black, you must understand, my family is composed of part veela, though the traits aren't as apparent the allure is firmly there." Harry had honestly forgotten about that tidbit, it hadn't affected him as much, mental fortitude and what not. "But there was something…"

"And where would that have been…?"

"There was an exhibit on literary monsters at the museum."

"That's not entirely uncommon, just the other day I heard about an exhibit on Star Wars." The confused looks they sent me spoke volumes of their knowledge on contemporary muggle culture.

"It wasn't the exhibit per se, it was one of the creatures the Jab-something." Alexander shook his head trying to remember, every few seconds he would swat at one of his ear, as if trying to kill a fly. "It was in one of those children's books. By the British writer Carroll."

"The Jabberwock." Harry mumbled. "What about it?"

"There was something about it that just felt wrong." He shook his head. "There was something about its eyes, they glowed..." His head jerked ever so slightly that Harry doubted that anyone but a seeker would catch.

"Interesting." Harry decided to push further, too many variables were hidden away. "Many animatronics have light bulbs behind their eyes, what about this one unnerved you?"

Alexander trembled slightly at the memory; Harry soon noticed the slightly glassy eyed look both Apolline and her husband shared, a theory came to the forefront of Harry's mind. Apolline clutched her forehead a vein seemed to be developing. She suddenly shot up.

"I need some water." She excused herself. That cinched it for Harry, he pulled out his wand, a gentle blue glow emanated from the tip.

"Monsieur Delacure would you mind if I ran a quick diagnostic charm?" He wasn't really going to give him an option, this was Harry being polite even if he was lying through his teeth, he wouldn't risk someone's life because of niceties.

There was a sliver of suspicion in the man's eyes. "Why?" Harry admired his healthy dose of paranoia it meant that the man was mostly in control.

"Routine, nothing to be worried about if anything's the case." Harry really wanted to go with a disarming smile, but the bloody scars ruined the effect, so he went with a straight face. "Now, do I have your permission?"

With narrowed eyes Alexander nodded. The blue light exploded from his wand into a fine mist that seeped into the esteemed businessman's mouth and nose. Harry watched as the spell took effect, he rarely regretted using the purgadum mente but he never wanted to use it on civilians, nasty little trick the Morrigan taught the wizards under her command, it literally and figuratively cleanses the mind, first it expunges all the harmful toxins by flooding them out through the nose, Alexander nose began dripping blood, then came the really painful part, where the brain seemingly began to vibrate, this was basically forcing the brain to shift back to its original state before being altered, the only indication that the second stage had begun was when the muscles in the face completely relaxed, Alexander's soon did so. Harry stood up and made his way toward Apolline, same spell focused on the tip of his wand. There wasn't any hesitation when he pointed the wand at the grieving half-veela or when he released the spell he was there to catch her when she collapsed. The third and final stage was what he liked to call the reboot where those affected by the spell would enter a sleep like trance for about half an hour give or take a few minutes, plenty of time to make his get away, but he needed to think for a bit. He gently placed Apolline next to her husband, and returned to his seat to ponder. Letting his weight drop onto the seat had proven to be a mistake the cushion wasn't as thick as he remembered it to be.

It was pretty clear that the two people sitting in front him were under the effects of something similar to the Imperius curse, but in that revelation laid the problem, Jervis Tetch and his little gang weren't known use magic or associate with magical individuals. The only logical explanation the wizard could come up with was that Jervis had found a way to mimic, if not improve, the Imperius curse. This new development worried Harry, prolonged exposure to the destroyed parts of the mind and eventually left people hollow shells of their past selves. Harry pulled out a burner phone and dialed 3366, the encrypted device rang for a minute before the Morrigan finally deemed it necessary to answer. "Boss, we may have a bit of a problem."

"You mean other than leaving your luggage at the airport, Black?" She paused. "Please do enlighten me." Harry didn't even ask about how she knew he forgot his luggage, he was convinced she already knew everything.

"Nothing is confirmed, but Alexander and Apolline Delacure were found under the effects of what appear to be a variant of the Imperius." Hedwig was going to be so pissed at him.

"An interesting development, but your primary objective remains the same retrieve victims and capture Tetch." There was a loud banging sound in the background. "Your luggage has been taken care of and have been sent to Ramada outside of the city."

"Thank you, ma'am." He heard the line go dead before he flipped the phone closed. Harry had a feeling that Charles had been listening in and so he was certain his brother would conduct his own investigation with the rest of the family as support and eventually they would come to the conclusion that the Mad Hatter was responsible for the disappearance, but by then it would have been too late and the Hatter would have claimed two more victims. Harry had four options he would possibly have to complete all of them before he actually found Jervis' little rabbit hole.

First he would have to visit a certain Bat, Harry tilted his head to the side and apprarated to the lobby in an effort to skip as many unpleasantries as he possibly could. Not spotting any of his extended family, Harry felt that maybe the day wouldn't be as bad after all.

o0o0o0o0o

Gotham city's Pioneer's Bridge was, in Harry's completely unbiased opinion, too fucking long. The sidewalk was too crowded and the people smelled horrible, it was October for the love of all things holy, how could they sweat so much in the cold? It was so plainly unnatural. The smell of burning gas oozed from the air and the sun was already beginning to set which seemed to be the city's cue to unleash a downpour that could rival Myrtle's incessant need to whne. There were times when Harry just wanted to melt away into the monotony that he knew only as mundane life, but he always crawled away from those thoughts when his mind drifted to what could have been if Sirius had never come for him, it made him frown.

"There nothing so cruel as memory." He reminded himself, the pointy, bitey little thunderbolts. Unwanted screamers through his synapses, completely inescapable, unrelenting…not at all friendly that prevented his escape into madness. It felt so damming. "So this is what John feels like…" he mused.

Harry was ripped away from his musings by laughter of all things. Harry looked around, instincts driving him to find its source; he ducked through two back alleys before stumbling across something he found rather unpleasant. A group of two brats corralling a girl with a horrendously blue haircut; it reminded him of Aunt Petunia's attempts at controlling his hair, and what appeared to be he beanie wearing twin, "We did it special for our favorite fairy." The leader said, directing his gaze at the hat wearer. "Ain't that right Cullen?"

"Just- Just leave us alone! Please! We'll do anything!" He said taking a step back.

The sister, Harry soon deduced, was definitely the defiant one and interrupted her brother's sure to be appeasing speech with a simple: "No." She glared at the leader. "We won't." The henchman socked her brother with enough force to knock the poor kid's beanie off his head.

"Ha! Look at his face it's already swelling!" he mocked. "Let's see who swells faster!"

"You got it. But we got'ta stomp them at the same time. We'll give them a boot to the jaw-" He lunged forward only to meet the business end of a taser, he collapsed in a heap of spasms.

"The hell you will!" she countered taking a swing at the leader, missing him by half an inch. The brat retreated to a safe distance as she put herself between her brother and the bully. "Come on, I DARE you!" The taser crackled in her hands, sending sparks in every direction. "It's not just a taser I powered it up, you scum." Harry smiled at heroic lack of profanity. "Come near my brother again and I'll Fry you. You hear…!" She stopped as five other brats filed into the alley. "…me…" When one of them pulled out a knife, Harry decided that it was time to make his presence known, they wanted to play rough, Harry most certainly knew how to play rough. Harry pulled out his sidearm and switched magazines as the knife wielder grabbed the girl's jacket. Harry fired twice one rubber bullet hit the knife while the other impacted the back of his knee, tearing a decent sized hole in his leg. The sound of the gun going off twice drew the gang's attention away from the twins and on to Harry who kept his gun ready. Harry never liked bullys, their limited pack mentality infuriated Harry to no end.

"Now then," Harry said stepping into the light, a few of the brighter gang wannabes knew that they should be scared, while the others disregarded his theatrics as a show of weakness, oh how Harry wished he could use magic on the general populace. "I think that's enough of that." The bravest of the five took a step forward disregarding the gun in its entirety.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Me?" Harry said while rubbing his chin with his free hand. "I'm just the distraction, mate." A black ball suddenly and, to Harry rather non-amusement, predictably hit the floor bursting into a cloud of thick smoke. Taking the opportunity to smash the butt of his pistol into the closest brute's face, Harry kept his eye on the rapidly descending body, whose cape made his shadow resembled the form of a bat. None of the bullies stood much of a chance after that, one of them managed to escape relatively unscathed. The Bat grabbed the one that managed to get himself tased and pulled his now conscious body up and off the ground holding him up to his face.

"You're Done here." He growled shaking him to get his point across. "You hurt these people again, and the next visit won't go this well. Understand?"

'Y-yes." He stuttered, Harry holstered his gun, crossed his arms, and lost against the urge to remain silent.

"Then Run." Batman turned his head and looked at the twins before turning his gaze on Harry, now he wasn't an expert on the bat but he swore that the eye slit. There was a moment of absolute silence before Batman broke it by letting the kid drop and in one fluent motion had a sturdy arm wrapped around Harry's waist. There was a moment of weightlessness accompanied by a sudden wave of disorientation came before Harry found himself gasping for air when his body found itself impacting a rather gravel roof.

There was a moment of silence as Harry tried to reestablish his normal oxygen flow, he glared at Gotham's Dark Knight. "Nice to see you too," He huffed out. Five years and the bastard still held a grudge. "You bloody fucking jackass." He hissed. Harry slowly stood up and brushed himself off, he suddenly paused, his hand fingering a large hole in his coat. "You ass! This was a nice coat."

"What are you doing in Gotham, Black?"

"Capturing Hatter and hopefully rescuing his new Alice and her sister." Batman showed no outward reaction and Harry could barely sense the man mind as it was so there was no telling if he would actually be a hindrance or a help.

"What is Bones planning?"

"Haven't seen him…yet." Harry shifted his stance slightly, hiding his right hand from the Bat's view.

"You shouldn't be here, not after what happened with Azrael."

"That was in self defense." There was a moment where Harry saw Batman's muscles ripple and felt his wand hand twitch. Azrael as much as Batman had tried to break the man's indoctrination was a psychotic monster that could have become as just as bad if not worse than the Joker, by the time Harry managed to track him down he had already savagely murdered seven families that had children that had shown bursts of accidental magic in public. The investigation dragged the Order of St. Dumas into light; where they were captured and sentenced to the dementors kiss until only Jean-Paul Valley remained at large that was until he was cornered inside of the church in the middle of Old Gotham, he killed four of the enforcers before Harry was able to put him down.

"He could have been subdued."

"You mean, you could have subdued him, and you're probably right you could have, but you weren't the one with a sword going through your bloody fucking abdomen."

Harry kept his voice level as he was trained to do. "But since you were late to that little party you got to make all the right calls."

"There were other ways of handling the situation." Batman stated calmly. "Azrael had potential, what the Order did to him could have been reversed."

"Eventually." Harry was becoming annoyed

"Yes."

"Tell that to the kids he killed, kids whose only mistake was being born different than the normal citizen." Harry readied himself for what he was certain was coming next. "But you're right, if I had the chance I would have kept him alive." He knew that the words coming from his mouth were not his own, in a way, but they fit his sentiment perfectly. "I would have him begging for death and when that time came I would refuse him that small mercy." If Harry had at that point owned both Sin and Salvation when he had fought Azrael it wouldn't have taken him long to break the man spirit, but he hadn't and he was forced into giving him a quick death. But the past was the past and as much as Harry enjoyed living with it he found it useless to regret it. "Where can I find the Hatter?"

"Get out of my city, Black."

"Can't do that, mate." He responded plainly. "I have my orders."

"I'll be keeping my eyes on you, Black." The Bat turned his back on Harry, a gust of wind made his cape billow. "If you cross the line again, I will stop you."

"You know, I liked the other you a lot better." With that Harry stepped off the buildings edge, what happened next should not have surprised him, Gotham's Dark Knight lunged from across the rooftop and managed to grab on to the hem of Harry's coat just as the apparition started taking hold. The resounding crack was one of the few warnings that something was amiss that night.

o0o0o0o0o

Harry apperated just outside of Robinson park miles away from where he was but closer to where he was originally going. Harry managed to land underneath Batman, the smell of blood hit him faster than the Bat could let out a scream; to no one's great amusement the Bat, in his infinite wisdom and luck, was splinched. Harry pushed him off before standing and looking around. The streets were unsurprisingly deserted with exception of the odd homeless person. If he remembered right, Gotham central was near the southern most edge of The Cauldron across Mercy bridge from Miagani Island. The irony of the island name and bridge were not lost to Harry and as such he wanted to get it over with quick to avoid awakening whatever vengeful shade hid in the city's soil. Harry took a few steps back from the withering body and took a deep breath. Side-along was never his specialty less so when the passenger was either forceful or unexpected. Harry crouched down next to the splinched hero and inspected his wound, most of his calf was missing and he was bleeding profusely. Harry sighed. "You better pray there's some dittany in this pouch, Bats, because I'm no healer."

"Accio dittany." He exclaimed, pointing his wand at the open satchel the little vial shot out and into his free hand. "Well would you look at that, there's a few drops left." Held it to Batma's face. "Usually I'm not this cruel and before you go telling your costumed friends this was my idea let me point out it was you who grabbed onto me while I was leaving. In doing so you have given me a great opportunity. Tell me where I can find the Hatter and I'll heal you, refuse I call whoever you have in your corner to pick you up and deal with your wounds, either way you heal, but this will help you heal faster. In words your pain addled mind can understand, it's days against weeks. How long can Gotham survive without you?"

A tense minutes passed but Batman remained strong. "Have it your way then." Harry grabbed Batman's arms searching for a communicator, he found it on his right arm. He pressed the only button on the glove. It didn't take long for someone to pick up.

"Sir?" the voice was old and sounded British.

"Your boss is wounded just outside of Robinson Park, which side I'm not entirely sure which part but…I would hurry though I won't be here much longer." He let the arm fall limply. "You're a stubborn bastard and this time I don't find it commendable. You want to play hero with your city, fine, but this is someone's life you are fucking with!" He almost shouted. "Remember five years ago, when we played those fucking war games, huh? That Batman knew how to keep his head out of his fucking ass, something I hoped you would learn with age, but it would seem I was mistaken. I killed Azrael, I killed Bellatrix Lestrange. I have killed many others and you know what he said? What Bones asked me?" Harry emptied the contents of the vial onto the splinched calf. "He asked if I enjoyed it. He asked me to my face after telling me how the other me died, he understood the need to end one life to preserve so many more. I asked you for the Hatter to preserve life, not to end it, but if those girls die…if I don't get there in time, their deaths will be on your head." With that Harry left him to his fate.

Three blocks later he saw the black silhouette of what he assumed was Batman's car zoomed by. If memory served correctly he had to cross Gotham's Centennial bridge…Gotham's longest bridge, that and getting a chat with the commissioner looking like he killed. "Oh, Joy." And so began another long walk, but in the distance he spotted a ray of hope in the form of a yellow cab he tried signaling it down but it simply zoomed right past him and dipping its wheels into a nearby puddle, creating a piss scented wave that splashed Harry's blood soaked pants. "Dick!"

o0o0o0o0o

Gabrielle Delacour could never be accused of being stupid witch, she had graduated top of her class, scouring higher marks than even her sister in her tenure at Beaubatons and on many occasion had defended herself from those that wished her and her family harm. But at that very instant she felt like one of the biggest fools in magical history, the petite man with the large hat had snapped her wand after her first poorly staged attempt at an escape, but that wasn't the worst part, the little monster had taken Victoire after having his goons beat Gabrielle senseless. She had heard him whisper about protecting Victoire from the Queen of Hearts while giving her tea, his ramblings indicated that he thought Victoire was Alice and Gabrielle was an agent of this Queen.

So there she was bleeding on the floor of a damp and dark room, with her clothes torn, and the bones in her wand arm broken in two different places. She was starving, the little man hadn't left her anything to eat or drink, he wanted to break her, send a message to the Queen. Silent tears escaped from her dark blue eyes and slid onto the wooden floor. She could only hope they found her niece before their captor decided he had enough with poor Victoire.

o0o0o0o0o

For the second time in one very long day Harry found himself in the passenger seat of a police cruiser; this time though he was sitting next to something Harry had felt was undoubtedly deserving of being marked number one on his list of top ten of things that he should never mess with, but had a feeling would have to deal with anyway. The man sitting next to him was, whether the man knew it or not, the host of one of the most dangerous spirits in known magical history. He looked like a more muscular, taller, and better kept, version of John, without the obnoxiously smug look on his face. The detective introduced himself as Jim Corrigan, one of the three detectives that comprised Gotham's thirteenth precinct; Harry knew him as the host of the Specter of Gomorrah, the revenant of a spirit that fed off its own need for vengeance. In other words the car ride was tense, on Corrigan's part it was more likely because of where they were going instead of who he was going with, it wasn't like Harry had a reputation among the GCPD as one of the more bloodthirsty members of the DEO…never mind. End the lives of two crazed killers and then people can't seem to stop talking.

"So…you're a wizard?" The blonde man finally asked.

Harry arched an eyebrow and turned his head towards the revenant, "Yes, I am and you're dead."

"Only technically." He said, pulling out a carton of cigarettes from a coat pocket. He offered one to Harry, who shook his head, Angelica hated the smell and Daphne broke his habit. 'You will not be coming near my daughter with that stink on you, do I make myself clear, Potter?' She had said it with her uniquely penetrating glare and that was the end of that little habit. "Okay, I know they're going to tell you the rules when you get there, so let me give you the simplified version. Don't feed the patients, don't agitate the patients, in case of a riot leave it to the guards or the Special Crimes Unit to get it under control, can't have breaching the Statute of Secrecy in the middle of a madhouse, they'll try to keep you there." He paused, bringing the unlit cigarette to his lips. There was an almost distant seriousness in his tone; he was most likely focusing on keeping the spirit of vengeance away. "Jeremiah, has his own rules, so I suggest you play ball with him." He lit the cigarette with a plastic lighter. "But you'll probably have to deal with Dr. Sterano, be careful around her, rumor mill has it she's the reason Quinn went bat-shit crazy."

"Gordon mentioned Quinn when I asked him for a ride, what connection does she have to the Hatter?"

"None, besides being put in neighboring cells." Harry turned his head back towards the road the bridge was coming to an end and the island grew ever closer. Arkham Asylum was much more intimidating than Azkaban could have ever hoped to have been, while Azkaban was designed as a prison since its very conception it lacked the natural chill of seeing what had once been a happy home turn slowly into a nightmare, as if it's very inhabitants madness twisted the land into the vision of horror that it was that day. "If you're gonna catch Tetch, Harley's the way to go, you have to offer her something she wants and give it to her." He shuddered. "Trust me you don't want Harley Quinn coming after you because of a broken promise."

"I'll take your word for it." Harry said pleasantly.

They rode in relative silence, Arkham's gates loomed closer, it's back metal stood out against the glowing moon. Harry couldn't help but remember a stanza from Dante's Inferno.

"Eternal, and eternal I endure.

All hope abandon, ye who enter here."

o0o0o0o0o

Harry hated Arkham, both the institution and the doctor. He could appreciate the need to study the deranged minds of criminals and monsters but the wizard did believe that a line had been crossed at some point; the inmates were treated like animals, in conditions that made Azkaban looked as clean as the bloody Ministry, and in the asylum Jeremiah had made himself into a semi-godly figure dealing punishments and elevating the status of those who stroke his ever growing ego, one of which was Dr. Sterano. The man gave Harry a few stern warnings about upsetting the patients and disrupting his ecosystem. Once again Harry had to remind himself that he himself wasn't a violent man.

Sterano had at one point been a rather attractive woman, but like Harry her face and neck were marred with scars, in her case one long scar going down her face where an inmate, presumably Quinn, had sliced her face open with a shard of glass. "Harley is quite the nuisance." Where the first words she said to him, as she sat in her office not even having the courtesy to look up from the letter she was reading. "It takes an orderly more than ten minutes a day to remove the staples from all the publication and letters she receives. We tried to limit or reduce them once but she escaped from her cell and killed two guards with a loose piece of pipe then she wrote a brief and had the courts overrule us." She placed the paper down on her desk and picked up another. "It seems that every student writing a masters thesis wants something from Harley in it, for the freak value I would assume." Harry eyes hardened at the word, it was such a vulgar way of addressing another human being who life had dealt a number of bad cards. Vernon and Petunia loved that word, he had an inkling that it made them feel educated in some idiotic and disturbed way, there was little doubt that was why Dudley turned out to be the "respectable" citizen that "worked" at a Super Mac's, by that he meant that he ate some of the frozen goods before putting the rest on the fryers. Harry stood at the under the doorway as the doctor kept reading her letters, that was until Harry spoke up.

"Ma'am I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I am on a rather stringent deadline." He urged keeping his annoyance out of his tone. She looked up, attempting to analyze him with cold eyes, he noticed how her dark skin looked pale under the florescent light. Hinting at her lack of contact with the outside world. There was an uneasy silence between them.

"They are rather clever using you." She stated plainly, a predatory smirk edging on her lips. She motioned him out of her office with her hands, standing up and putting he coat on in one motion. She strutted passed Harry and motioned him to follow.

"And why would that be?" he asked over the clicking of Sterano's heels.

"A young scarred, attractive, and damaged man to get her all excited." She laughed. "I suspect she hasn't seen anyone as interesting as you since the Joker left her for dead a little over two months ago." They were nearly out of the main facility and going toward the courtyard. "We tend to keep the staff out of the intensive treatment center and those that do are usually fully covered in riot armor, to avoid another incident like the one with Dr. Cassidy." Oh yes, how could Harry forget Victor Zsasz, his original suspect in the killings of those poor muggleborn children and their families. "But it won't matter much, Harley's on one of the upper floors and she already considers me her nemesis."

"Why?"

"Why does anyone hate their intellectual superiors?" She asked seriously. "She's jealous." Harry shrugged as the two passed the heavy wooden doors of the main building and into the courtyard where a number of guards were patrolling the scarcely illuminated area, one of the guards handed Dr. Sterano an compact umbrella. There was something off about Dr. Sterano's story, and it irritated him.

In any case they walked silently through the rain.

Harry looked around noting the growing number of guards closer nearer the four, bright watchtowers. "Normally I'd have one of the orderlies take you, but as you might know we pride ourselves on the security of this facility and only a select few of the doctors on this island know the necessary clearance to get into this building, lucky for you I'm one of those few."

Once inside, Harry was suddenly stopped by another guard. "Sir, I'll have to ask you to relinquish your gun and any weapons you may have on your person." He held out his hand. "Only authorized personnel are allowed weapons." Harry nodded and handed the man his gun, but kept his wand securely attached to his arm. The guard then proceeded to pat him down. Harry glanced over to the good doctor whom was busy punching in a code to the open the security door. There was loud wailing sound as different parts of the door fell into place before swinging open slowly. Two guards flanked them on both sides nudging him forward as the doctor lead the way through a maze of concrete hallways and iron pipes. The place stank of humidity something horrible, and the air was stagnant. It took the group four full minutes before reaching the cells. "Quinzel is just up ahead." Harry grabbed her arm before she could get any farther.

"Due to the circumstances of the investigation I cannot allow you to jeopardize this investigation." Dr. Sterano had the decency to look offended.

"How exactly would I jeopardize your investigation Agent Black? I know Quinn's mind better than anyone, besides the Joker of course."

"Ma'am you admitted that Miss Quinzel and yourself had a rather antagonistic relationship. That being said I need her full cooperation." Harry said plainly. "If you have a problem with that please contact my superiors, but outside of that, please excuse me." He put a card in the doctor's hand and continued on his way down the aisle, ignoring the doctor voice her great displeasure. The Hatter's cell was open, there were a number of pictures with Alice, the Hatter, and the March Hare drinking tea from various angles. His hands traveled over the surface of the bars while his green eyes searched for something that could be considered a clue.

Harry turned and found he had a ghostly spectator, only she wasn't a ghost and she was very much alive, though her skin was doing a very good at capturing a ghostly vibe. Her hair was what actually convinced him he wasn't observing a ghost the right half was a bluish black while the left half a vibrant crimson red. She was dressed in what he assumed were Arkham standard issue underwear and pretty much nothing else. Harley was grinning from ear to ear while pressing her face against the bars of her cell. "What'cha doing?" She asked, in an excited voice.

"Investigating." The grin left her face and was replaced by a bored pout.

"So you're some kinda of cop." Her previous mirth was completely gone.

"Not exactly."

"Oh, so you're Gordon's new detective aren't ya?"

"No."

"Wait, you're British so… MI6?"

"Nope."

"SHIELD?"

"No."

"The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen."

"No!"

"Aha! I'm getting close now! I can feel it."

"No, you're really not."

"INTERPOL."

"No."

"Oh, I know the BPRD."

"You're just going to continue keep on naming it until I finally say yes, aren't you?"

"Pretty much."

"Is there any way I can persuade you not too?"

"Well ya could always…" She said taking a step back and standing rather suggestively, hands on her midriff , hip tilted ever so slightly. She arched an eyebrow and flipped her black hair. "Help a girl out.'

"I'm not opening the cell." He said plainly.

Harley pouted. "Aww, don't ya think I'm pretty Mister?"

"You're very attractive Harley, but I'm not stupid." Harry knew exactly what Harley was capable of he had made it a point to study Gotham's more violent criminals and she was sixth on his list under Killer Croc, in her early days of her madness, a few guards tried to sexually assault a bound Harley she killed them with a pudding cup. That wasn't to say it was madness that made Harley so dangerous; it was her mind, a beautifully powerful instrument that could observe a person and manipulate them into giving her what she wanted, but she preferred to be childish or at least the persona did and preferred to solve her problems with a blow of her iconic mallet.

"Never said ya were, but neither am I, and I ain't telling you squat about Mr. J's plan for Halloween. So puh." Harley blew him a raspberry, while crossing her arms and swaying her hips left to right .

"I wasn't going to ask about the Joker, he's not my problem, Harleen." Harry said stepping into the Hatter's cell. There charcoal fingerprints in a pattern along the different quotes and drawings. He stopped "Can I call you Harleen?"

"You can call me whatever you like, Mister-not-a-cop." She answered. "But cha better tell me your name and who's you're working for."

"Fine. The names Harry Black, I work for the Department of Extranormal Operations." Harry pulled out a piece of paper completely blank and that's what caught his attention, it just didn't fit. He checked the back of the yellowed paper first. "You know, I like what I've heard about you especially the name." That wasn't a complete lie, he liked that she had rules and that her darker side only came into play when the Joker was involved and he liked the name it felt original. The paper was blank, on both sides, which could only mean that something was hidden. Harry pulled out his wand from the side holster and tapped the tip against both sides of the paper three times and murmured "Aparecium." And lo and behold the ink began to come out of the paper, and revealing the first few lines from Alice's adventures in Wonderland.

"ALICE was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, "and what is the use of a book," thought Alice, "without pictures or conversations?'

'A textbook.' He thought.

"So, what' cha like about my name?" she asked.

Harry crouched down as he examined Tech's bed, he spotted a ripple in the sheets and pulled out a clunky black leather textbook. "It's kind of a secret." Harry grabbed the book but put it aside when a map of Old Gotham slipped out. Scribbled at the bottom in dried blood was SAFE PLACE! And on it was a small black X near Pioneer's bridge that once was one of Gotham's premire antique shops, it could be nothing but he knew that it would lead him to the girls. He smiled triumphantly. Harry turned to see a smiling Harley. Not the mad smile she usually wore, but a rather genuine, if not slightly disturbed, happy smile. "Harleen, did Tetch ever mention an antique shop in Old Gotham?"

"Harry, Harry, Harry..." She looked slightly offended, or mock offended, it was so hard to tell when the person was bat-shit crazy, pun intended. "I'm no stool pigeon, if you want something you'll have to trade."

"Fine, I'll owe you one."

"Give me your card, the real one I know you agent types, severe abandonment issues or rampant narcissism, you either don't trust me with the information or think you can handle me, which you can't." She tilted her head and stuck out her left hand through the bars. The easy thing would be just rip into her mind, but would give her access into his own mind, one of the flaws legilimency the Morrigan had pointed out to him. 'A complex art of giving and taking", she had said, "indispensable when dealing with simple minds, but risky when complexity and madness are preset.'

There was little doubt in Harry's mind that Harley Quinn was both.

So he did what he had to do, he gave Harley a business card with his phone number. "Now tell me what I want to know."

"Yeah, he mumbled about it once or twice…now wait just a minute what exactly can you do?"

"You'll just have to find out later." With a nod of his head Harry stepped away from the clown's cell and walked down the maze of corridors. When he was far enough away he pulled out his phone and stated searching for Agent Chase's contact information, just in case he failed.

Harry waited for Chase to answer, and was prepared to call her until she answered her bloody phone. Lucky for all parties involved Chase graced Harry with an answer.

"You better have a damn good lead, Black, because if you don't I won't be held responsible for what I'm going to do to you."

"Well, wotcher to you too, Cameron."

"I'm busy, Black, and it's your fucking fault!"

"How is whatever you're doing my fault?"

"Your brother and four others broke into the Pinkney museum and engaged some wannabe cultist."

"Again, how is that my fault?"

"He's your brother."

"So people keep reminding me. He may not act like it but he is an adult and though I'd be wary of any choices he makes; they are his and I had nothing to do with it."

"He claims he acquired the information that led him to the museum from you."

"So the little shit was listening in." He explained. "That's not exactly legal, is it? Cause if it isn't, I wouldn't protest his incarceration."

"He and those involved will be fined the total value of restoring the damaged artifact and replacing whatever they destroyed."

"Well, good luck with that, Charles and his band are heroes to the ICW, they'll probably foot the bill or manage to annul the fine." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Now onto that lead you mentioned I think found the Hatter and since I don't particularly have HQ's number I was hoping you can get a tactical team ready."

"Roger that, I'll relay the information to Director Bones." The line went dead, but Harry continued holding the phone to his ear, there was something that didn't feel right. Harry apparated without so much as a second thought.

o0o0o0o0o

Cameron Chase watched her men escort Charles Potter, George, Ronald, William, and Ginny Weasley away after confiscating their wands, the cultist were already on their way to Blackgate. Director Bones had sent her to the museum in an effort to extract the device that could replicate a form of mind control, but found the statue missing its head and with it their only chance at finding a way to counteract its effects. She felt a tap on her shoulder, a single raindrop falling from the cracked skylight, She looked up and spotted the reason she came to Gotham in the first place. Cameron could see the woman's blood red hair move with the wind. The blonde woman stared at the Bat's glowing white eyes. There was a flash of lightning and for an instant Cameron was surrounded in the Bat's shadow. She had to shield her eyes and when she looked back the woman was gone. It wasn't long before Sawyer made her way to the prisoners and started her own line of enquiry, she might as well listen in, she might learn something the director could find useful, but before she did that she pulled out her phone.

"This is Agent Chase, authorizing the deployment of twelve Enforcers to Agent Black's current location."

o0o0o0o0o

It didn't take Harry long to find the place, after all it was probably the most decrepit building in Old Gotham and that was saying something, any sane man would condemn the building and be done with it but yet it stood a complete and utter eyesore. Its windows and doors were boarded up; there was graffiti reminiscent of a toddler's attempts to spell their name covering every inch of the presumably gray cracked walls, and it stank of urine, that being said the entire street stank of urine but it was that building in particular that stood out. "How is this safe?" Harry muttered as he circled the building for the thirtieth time. Harry's line of work had taught him how to stick to the shadows and it was times like these that he was thankful for the Department's hellish training courses. Harry stopped when he reached the darker of the two side alleys. Harry, for his part saw two very different options, but only one was truly feasible and the other was completely and utterly idiotic but would achieve the same end: getting inside building. The first option, the completely irrational and idiotic option that he thought up just to have some mediocre illusion of choice, was to blast through the back door hopefully taking out some of Tetch's hired help. Of course there were more than a few flaws with that plan; alright, Harry could admit it was a very, very shitty plan that he would leave for another time. The second option, the clever option in his opinion, was simple shift into his animagus form, crawl in through the basement and systematically neutralize everyone inside.

Harry looked around, making sure there weren't any muggle passerby, and focused on the transformation. The bitter taste of mandrake invaded his mouth, according to Sirius it was a rare side effect that wasn't really harmful and he was right of course, and after thirteen years of exposure Harry had even come to enjoy iits bitter flavor. A second later and he began to feel his bones and muscles shrink and shift, white fur sprouted from under his skin. The world seemed to become larger as the shift took, Harry briefly mused what would happen if a mugglel spotted him turning into a fox, maybe because of the time they would simply sum it up as a bout of moonstroke. Harry closed his eyes to avoid disorientation and when he finally opened them he felt as free as when first rode a broomstick. He was an arctic marble fox; his distinguishing feature was black line of fur that ran down the center of his face in the shape of a lightning bolt. If it weren't for the stench in the air

Harry stood still as his body adjusted to his sharpened senses. The city roared with an ancient anger, the animal part of him wanted to make a quick escape but while the human part of him argued, he needed to do his job, and the Old Man had taught him many things but he hadn't taught Harry how to run away.

Harry stretched his muscles before slowly making his way into the building via one of the broken basement window. The scent of scorched flesh lingered in the air like a bad memory, Harry stuck his head in an attempt to look inside, the room was pitch black or it would be if he were human at the time but the darkness couldn't hinder his vision in his current form. Harry jumped down; there was a moment of weightlessness before he impacted the concrete floor. Harry stumbled for a moment before quickly regaining his footing. Harry darted behind a pillar and waited to see if he had been heard, he couldn't hear any type of movement whatsoever. He waited for a minute before giving the room a once over all he found were boxes and an unidentified male corpse, the cause of death was rather apparent, the rabbit mask short-circuited possibly frying his brain but Harry could tell with certainty that his face was a smoldering mess of black charred flesh and bone. Harry ascended using the stairs, sticking close to the wooden walls.

Harry had run through nearly the entirety of first floor before he stumbled upon a most horrific tea party, there were twenty-three men and women dressed in a number of themed costumes sat slumped over the table top, the smell of charred flesh grew stronger until it became too much for his delicate nose. Harry stood at a distance scanning the table there were three empty chairs and one gloriously delicious looking slice of treacle tart that in any other situation would be quite appetizing.

Holding his breath, he jumped on the table. Each of the corpses had their faces covered by molten fragments of, what Harry assumed were, character masks conforming their manner of death, at least superficially, the autopsy would tell if his observation had any merit. Harry sat next to the treacle tart debating what he should do about it; he knew he wasn't going to eat it, but he couldn't just leave it there…

A loud thump tore him away from the delectable treat, it came from above him; he waited tensely. 'Don't move, wait, observe, and react only when you know where its coming from, Harry.' He thought to himself. Moments later there was another thump, weaker than the one before. Harry jumped off the table and made his way up the stairs, towards whatever was producing that sound. He eventually found it coming from behind a door that had a Cheshire cat etched into the wood at the end of the hallway.

[Est ce qu'il ya quelqu'un! L'homme moyen a pris ma tante loin qu'elle a besoin d'aide!] The small melodic voice cried, undoubtedly belonging to Victoire Weasley. Her voice was raspy as if she were crying. One little problem had just revealed itself, Harry for all his talents knew nothing of the French language except a few insults. Taking a look at the shadowed places, being injured mid transformation could have some very serious complication to any wizard's health, scores of wizards and witches had lost their lives during the colonial age that the spell became less and less practiced until a precious few were left that could teach the complex teachings. Shifting back into a human was possibly the most unpleasant part of the whole ordeal, your bones grew, your muscles tore, and the hair just poofed away. "Alohomora." He waved his wand over the lock it opened with a loud click, he waited for the door to creek open slowly, a blonde seven year old stuck her head out tentatively, Harry quickly pulled the door away to avoid any and all possible accidents. Dudley made damn sure he had a degree of paranoid when it came to doors and fragile limbs.

"Uncle Charley!" She almost shouted, which confused him a lot, considering he and Charles share very, and he meant very few physical similarities and the girl had attended more than a few Angelica's birthdays, the only logical explanation he could come up with was that the girl was suffering from shock; that or his brother was standing in which case. "Stupefy" Harry whispered while twirling on his heel.

And…missed. He missed? And to make matters worse the little part-veela was now even more panicked than she had originally been. "Well shit." He let out a breath, he turned back to the girl who was babbling in a mixture of both French and English that made little too no fucking sense, and she was almost hyperventilating. "Victoire, try to calm down." He tried to sooth but that only accomplished a rapid elevation of her heart rate so ultimately Harry did what any Agent that didn't want someone giving away their location would do, putting them to sleep. "Somno." This of course was the spell that Dumbledore used to put the hostages to sleep during the second tasks distant nonlethal cousin, in which case subject is put into a deep sleep and not into a state of suspended animation, because last time Harry attempted that little spell he was accused of murder. Harry carried her back into the room, Harry found the room comforting, in an odd sort of way, it had everything a child could ask for, toys, blankets, and a small television, playing the tea party scene from Disney's Alice in Wonderland in a loop. A sense of relief washed over him while he watched the young witch sleep, but he quickly brushed it away, he had a Hatter on the loose and he had had a feeling he was tightening the noose…the rhyme made him feel slightly cleverer than he usually did…

'Right, moving on.'

Harry exited the room and gently closed the door. He had one more floor to check then he could take Victoire away, hopefully Tetch would make it easy and surrender or at least had the common courtesy to keep to his nasty little habits and stick close to his "Alice".

"Homenum Revelio." A pulse of magic emanated from his wand.

A simple spell that even an idiot could do it, hell the Snatchers used to do it all the time during the last war. Not really reliable in Harry's opinion as it warned the humans in the vicinity that they were being searched for and had a rather limited scope on what it considered to be human. For example, if a person were in a black room with Hagrid, the magic would ignore Hagrid and simply show them a that the room is empty. The reason was rather laughable, really it was; when the Spanish Inquisition started upping the anti-magical hunt against suspected witches and he wanted to make quick gold by tracking down rival houses and turning them in, of course he died shortly after when they suspected him of devilry. During that time blood purity fanatics were at an all time high, which would explain the church's crackdown.

It took a minute to get back to him, but it told him that there was someone above him and whomever the signal belonged to was pacing up a storm. Harry tightened his grip on his wand.

Nerves were always a terrible thing, they signaled the adrenal glands to jump start production, making Harry hyper aware of every blasted thing, the creaking floor boards, the blasted heat despite the cold October weather, and the rip in his coat that made everything feel rather breezy. Harry twirled his wand twice as he ascended to the last floor. The third floor was cluttered mess of antiques, vinyl records, books, and toys that spanned back a few decades. He walked carefully, maneuvering slowly until he reached the wooden door. There was a tug behind him, but he didn't stop not until the light sound of a child's piano graced his ears at the most inopportune of timed.

"Oh, fuck."

o0o0o0o0o

Her captor was still seething, she could smell the tea that lingered on him radiating behind her. "How interesting, don't you think Lizzie, that the Queen would send you out everyone at her disposal to take away my poor Alice?" He stopped to take a breath, and then struck her again. "You, who were supposed to protect her, and instead you became like a curly haired Bandersnatch."

He had returned later in the evening after hosting a tea party for Victoire, proceeded to tie her to a chair, and interrogate her. They had been at it for hours and Gabrielle had long since lost the ability to speak. "But don't fret, Poor little Lizzie, I'll be taking care of Alice from now on." Her captor lifted her head up by her golden hair; she felt cold steel press against her bruised neck. "And this time, no one will take Alice away from me!" She closed her eyes, fighting the none existent tears dripping from dehydrated body as she waited for her captor to end it all, and she waited, but the end never came instead she heard music coming from what sounded like one of the tiny pianos her mere had gifted her when she was but a child. 'Baby you understand me now…' She heard a man curse behind the door. 'If sometimes you see that I'm mad.'

'Reducto!' The same voice cried, there was something she found familiar about it but the fogginess prevented her from thinking too clearly. 'Doncha know no one alive can always be an angel?' The door splinted, showering the room in dust and wood 'When everything goes wrong, you see some bad.' Her captor squealed pulling the knife back cutting into her face. She gave out a weak scream. 'But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good…' She heard the familiar voice curse and then her captor scream, there was sickening crack as bone snapped.

'Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood.' It was too much for Gabrielle, her exhausted and bruised body gave out and the darkness swallowed her vision.

o0o0o0o0o

'The little bastards fast.'

That was the only thought that occupied Harry's rather pain addled mind. He turned his arm upwards in a thrust, hoping Tetch suffered for driving a fucking knife into his stomach, the little blighter had done that the moment he'd walked into the fucking room. They struggled for a bit before something exploded in Harry's face, and nausea set in. Harry dropped to his knees when a crippling pain shot out from his crotch. He felt the knife pull out before it came down piercing his shoulder. "Alice is MINE!" He heard Tetch hiss, next thing he knew he was on his back as Tetch walked past him. He could almost hear the old man's words: 'Finish the job.'

With all his strength Harry lifted his wand and fired a stunner.

It missed Tetch, but shattered a boarded up window and Harry watched Tetch sprint away, or at least he thought he did, Harry could not perceive the line where reality ended and the hallucinations began. Explosions of sound and color filled the air, voices rang in his like dissonance of sound, he couldn't help but scream. He felt his mind being ripped apart while he desperately tried to stich it back together.

He felt the world shake and soon after two playing cards surrounded him. One shined a bright light at his eyes, while the other put pressure on his stomach, they spoke in hushed tones as his body slowly but surely went to sleep.

'Tick, tock, stop the clock.'

o0o0oo0o0o

She sang to him, her eyeslike emerald shadows, she danced for him, with promises of love and life but to be a shadow was to be the price. She promised to let him watch the world burn and to dance with him in the ashes of new life.

He loved her, but he refused her, his deadly angel, his jade canary. The desert sky was a sea of stars as she caressed his face in her rough hand. She smiled like a cat the scent of ash lingered on her clothes, her breath on his ears, she made a promise, a gentle whisper to her wounded soldier ' We shall see my beloved, we shall see…'

But all too soon she is ripped away, her song no longer filled the air only the echoes of death remained. The scent of ash no longer brought comfort, only memories of a time that he wished he could forget. He waited in the dark for her return. Her name sat on his lips like sand.

o0o0o0o0o

He awoke in a white room, a hospital if he were to guess. He shook his head to clear away the fog, the smell of smoke hit quickly and he turned his head towards a smoking black skeleton. Harry stared at the black sockets where he was certain invisible eyes stared right back. "It's good to see you awake, Agent Black."

"Hello, Director Bones."

"Your mission was a success. Both victims are being treated at Gotham Memorial." He puffed out a little cloud of smoke. "But that's not why I'm here." He pulled a blood stained envelope from his side. "Since you are still recovering, I'll read it aloud." The Director made a show of clearing his throat. "'Lord Harry James Black, you have been invited to attend oour time honored tradition that all heads of House Black have participated in, sans the late Lord Sirius Orion Black. To celebrate your Twenty-Seventh birthday, we at the Mirror House will be holding an auction in your honor in the catacombs of London on November the second as custom dictates. We eagerly await your attendance. Yours truly, Etienne Guiborg.'" The Director placed the card At the edge of Harry's bed. "The Morrigan, wants you back in London. You will attend this little black mass and purchase a device known as the Dream Ruby, it's something the Enemy needs."

"Who's the enemy this time?" Harry croaked.

"We don't know, but they're taking children." Bones tilted his head. "En mass, twenty so far."

"Fuck."

"Indeed. You have two weeks to heal, mandatory, we're not exactly sure what Tetch did to you and I can't risk it."

Harry nodded, he had one last question.

"Why was I put on the Delacour case?"

"You have history." He said simply, dusting off a bit of ash that fell on his pants. "The Morrigan said you have a special dedication to protect, but it's a force of nature when its people you know and given what happened during the second task of the Tri-wizard tournament would level half the city if it meant saving the girl. She trusted your restraint, if she didn't you wouldn't have been told anything."

"I see." Director Bones patted his uninjured shoulder with his gloved hand.

"I doubt you do."

o0o0o0o0o

A/N: Well that's a wrap. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please Continue reviewing. And a special thank you to all that reviewed.

I apologize for last month chapter a friend of mine accidentally posted the unfinished chapter.

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Faora- 2


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III: For those who sleep…

‘I heard joke once: Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Life seems harsh, and cruel. Says he feels all alone in threatening world. Doctor says: "Treatment is simple. The great clown - Pagliacci - is in town. Go see him. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears. "But doctor..." he says "I am Pagliacci." Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.’ 

-Rorschach, Watchmen.

o0o0o0o0o

Dreaming was something that Harry hated doing, it wasn’t because of the monsters that dwelled in his memories or because of the pains he had endured in his time, no that wasn’t the case, it was never the case, Harry Black hated dreaming because it was something that Harry James Potter loved do. He’d dreamt to pass the time, he’d dreamt of his mother’s hugs when the night grew cold and the Dursley’s locked him in the cupboard under the stairs, he dreamt of a father’s guidance whenever Dudley and his crew played out their Harry hunts. But then came Hogwarts and he learned how dangerous dreaming could be. So he waited, not for sleep, nor for food, but for doctor Sue Li to finally come into the room and release him from the binding that secured him to his rather uncomfortable bed. The doctor was a rather short woman of both British and Chinese decent, she had at one point attended Hogwarts as a Ravenclaw but left after the basilisk incident. She was very strict, especially when in came to procedure. It dictated that when an agent or enforcer is exposed to mind altering chemicals they were to be kept in isolation for a minimum of one week and released at the doctor’s discretion. 

A week and a half had already passed since the Hatter smashed the tea bag across his face, and he had run out of things to do. Hedwig had been sent to Daphne while he recuperated, he wasn’t allowed to contact anyone outside of the facility or roam around. Sue Li had been gracious enough to lend him a few books to read, which he did even though they were mostly about his brother’s time in Hogwarts. Seven books containing the largest amount of bullshit Skeeter had ever managed published. The first book was fairly accurate depiction of his first year, if not for the amount brother angst she had written into the story. Half the book was basically her describing Harry’s ever growing resentment for the Potter’s and how he cried himself to sleep, while the truth was rather simple at that point Harry simply wanted to meet them, to ask them why? Why did they leave him with them? Why was he chosen to live in that blasted cupboard, while Charles actually knew love? They had yet to answer. It spoke of many strange and impossible adventures as told by the various ghosts and students who once inhabited the castle. 

The second book had Charles investigating Harry because hell, Charles was a parseltongue why wouldn’t his twin brother be? It painted, that hack, Lockhart as brave teacher who daringly lost his memory protecting both Charles and Ronald from Slytherin’s monster. Harry nearly ripped the book apart after reading it, the fact that the books were leant to him was the only deterrent that kept him from doing so. It made no mention of how the friends he’d made in his first year, sans Tracy and Daphne, abandoned him because of their fear of Heir of Slytherin, or the teasing, or even how Dumbledore had banned him from playing Quidditch to appease the students. The third book Charley Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban detailed Peter Pettigrew’s escape and his hunt for Charles, it omitted the various Dementor attacks Harry and a number of student, including one Luna Lovegood suffered through or the fact that Lupin had very nearly bitten Harry while on detention with Hagrid, not that it was poor old Lupin’s fault… the full moon was taxing on a werewolf’s body, it skipped over the first meeting he had with his parents in it’s entirety, for dramatic effect, he assumed. 

The fourth book focused entirely on him, from the Goblet of Fire to the execution of Barty Crouch Jr, which wasn’t very surprising, after all he was one of two Hogwarts champions and the victor of the bloody tournament. Most of it was either rumor or typing down what she and many others witnessed through out the schools year. The graveyard chapter was particularly fascinating, no Death Eaters were named nor were or described except for poor old Gregorio Dolohov, younger brother to Antonin Dolohov, and one of Voldemorts more staunch supporters. Poor Gregorio had his head severed, not by Harry, but by the man the book referred to as a skilled Auror infiltrator, a last ditch attempt from the Ministry to save face after spending a little over a year defaming Harry. It was the second time Harry had witnessed death’s complete and utter finality. It was the first time he met the Old Man., his long white beard and black pupils, he saved Harry and would became his mentor for the next two years. He read more than half of the next book but couldn’t bring himself to read some bastardized version of Sirius’s death, no matter how fictional the story was. Truth be told James wasn’t wrong in blaming him for Sirius’s death, if only he had used his brain after rummaging through Draco’s letters, maybe just maybe Sirius’s may still been alive, if only he hadn’t decided to act like a bull headed Gryffindor, if he hadn’t gone after the prophecy when he had the chance. Prophecies could only be retrieved by those they spoke of but they could be destroyed by anyone, and that is what he decided to do. He had been prepared to engage Lucius and handful of low level Death Eaters, but instead found himself mostly fleeing fro the bastard’s inner circle. “Engage six hundred, my ass.” Harry mumbled as his he stared at the book. A year of the Old Man’s instruction, a year of physical, magical, and psychological training had been the only reason he had survived to the point that Charles and his friends had arrived. Harry remembered watching his mother fight with equal measure skill and ferocity. 

It had truly been sight to behold.

But above all, he remembered hearing Bellatrix laugh as Sirius fell through the Veil. Charles being held back by Ronald, and feeling a new born form of anger 

‘I know the rage that drives you. That impossible anger strangling the grief, until the memory of your loved one is just poison in your veins. One day you will catch yourself wishing that the person you loved had never existed, to spare you the pain.‘ The Old Man had told him that the day after his godfather’s funeral, the one he wasn’t told about. It was the one genuine act of kindness that made Harry think the Old Man was or had at one point been human. ‘You fear what’s inside yourself. You fear power, your power, the drive to do great or terrible things. This is what I shall teach you, and with it you will be able to end conflict as your own nature dictates.’ Turned out Harry had been right to fear power, it made him cocky and it made an easy for target the enemy. 

He didn’t bother reading the other two, he didn’t want to or need to remember. It was war, and as man who swam into the abyss Harry knew, that no matter what face it took, it would never change. 

Time trickled by slowly for Harry, as it always did for people who lacked patience and were asked to sit still. Doctor Li walked into the room with an air disinterest and a clipboard in her hand. She pulled out her wand, and slowly drew it over Harry’s body. She did it several times before giving it a flick. “It would seem, agent Black, that whatever toxin you inhaled has run its course, and as entertaining is it would be hold you for a few more days I’m afraid that I shall have to ask you to leave. There are other patients that require my attention.” The thing about doctor Li that unnerved Harry was he strictly monotone voice that reminded him of Snape, a young, attractive, female Snape.‘Merlin, the horror.’ “Clothes are in the locker to your right.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Harry quickly slid out of the bed, 

“And Agent Black, should you ever find yourself in my care please stay in bed until I or another doctor on staff clears you, it would be a shame the security opened your wounds.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He opened the metal closet, there he found a nice black suit, a white shirt, and a tie. No coat though. “Where are my things?”

“Agent Chase was holding on to them.”

“And where can I find agent Chase?”

“She’s meeting with Director Bones.” 

“And where is Director Bones?

“He’s supposed to be meeting Captain Dakkar.” Harry’s green eyes slightly widened in shock and wonder.

“We’re on the Nautilus?” 

“Of course, Agent Black.”

The Nautilus… the greatest line of seafaring vessels ever created by man, in the nineteenth century it was one of the eight wonders of the modern world under the command of greatest minds to ever grace the planet Earth and one the Old Empires greatest enemies. Though there were rumors he was part of a under the control of MI5 before and during the first Martian invasion but quickly vanished and was deemed to be dead until a Black Nautilus emerged in nineteen ten and proceeded slaughter the docks and loot half of London, where Nemo’s, the then unknown, daughter, Janni, took up the mantel of Nemo. She ruled the seas for nearly fifty years and was vital in destroying the German navi during the second World War. In nineteen forty five she passed it on to her daughter Hira, who passed the title to it’s current Captain. It was both exiting and agitating for Harry, exiting because there was a chance that Harry could meet a living legend and agitating because of his delightful uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia, thanks them Harry had developed claustrophobia but regular exposer to the cupboard under the stairs had dulled it to the point where it became like a constant buzzing in the back of his head. Now that Harry knew he was on the vessel he could imagine the invisible sway under the sea. “Brilliant, absolutely brilliant.” He murmured as he dressed. 

When he finished dressing he found the door open and Su Li gone. Not that he particularly minded but it would seem purebloods had a knack for leaving without having the courtesy to say goodbye. Harry walked into the hallway avoiding as best he could the crew, who dressed in green uniforms and wore hats with the signature N printed on them, they paid him little mind. The halls were well lighted and etched into the metal were a number of sea creatures. As he drew closer to the front of the ship, or so he assumed, the walls of the ship became more intricate until opening up into a dining hall where Captain Dakkar sat at the head of the table. He was a tall man with a rather tired looking face, he wore a suit reminiscent of his grandmother and kept a rapier to his left side, next to him was a woman holding a very futuristic looking riffle she was bald except for two lumps of hair she had held up. To the far side of the table sat Director Bones, whose head was surrounded by grey smoke, and Agent Chase who kept her hands on the table while the two leaders conversed. Harry had the good sense to wait until Director Bones signaled him over, Harry almost instantly felt the Captains gaze fall on him, Harry did not look away.   
Harry made his way slowly to the Directors left side, as he did he noticed four paintings, one for each captain of the Nautilus. Under three of the four portraits hung three unique blades that Harry assumed belonged to the ships former captains, under the fourth, Jack Dakkar’s portrait, hung an empty scabbard green. By the grim expressions on the table member’s faces he assumed the topic discussing was rather heavy. “Agent Black, it’s good that you could finally join us.” Director Bones said, never taking his eyes off of Captain Dakkar. “I was just informing the Captain of that lovely invitation, the one from Etienne Guiborg, He was rather worried-“

“I can speak for myself, Director Bones.” He interrupted, Director Bones sat back in his seat. “Take a seat agent Black.” He commanded and Harry quickly did as instructed. The captains body shifted ever so slightly in Harry’s direction. “I’ve heard a great many tales about you and read a few of them as well.” He paused. “Those that I have read painted you in the like a hunter of beasts, a soldier for a long defunct empire.” The captain’s tone remained steady and neutral in its entirety, but his eyes showed the slightest hint of resentment. “They claim that you shrug off mercy and like a hound, you would ignore the plight of burning village just to sink your teeth into your prey.” He stood up, which made the woman next to him tense. He drifted slowly to the portrait closest to him, the one with a young woman that covered more than half her face while her hand rested on her sword. “But what I have heard shows me a man, who would sacrifice himself if only to save a precious few, a man who allowed a Basilisk to bite him in an effort to protect a boy he had no connection too.” Harry’s hand drifted over the scar on his right arm, it had happened on his twentieth birthday, in a small country between Nepal and Bangladesh, near the end of his nomadic years. The locals had been having problems with the death of livestock and a string of disappearances in the mountains. The village was rather unique because of the beautiful fields of purple flowers that surrounded them. At the time many men and women blamed the League of Shadows, in hushed whispers, at the time Harry hadn’t believed in them so he searched for the only logical answer. He found it weeks later. Poison green skin and white eyes, Harry was rather lucky that the beast was molting at the time or the story would have ended tragically. Hell, even to that very day Harry wasn’t sure how he survived the poison. “Whichever one you are; whichever one you claim to be it, dog or man, does not matter. You and I, we share that aspect, we are men who live under two names.” He turned to look at Harry and the other members of the DEO. “We continue the legacy of our forbearers as guardians, but while the threat to your blood has been defeated, I fear that mine has persisted despite my grandmothers efforts.”

“What do you need from me?” Harry remained expressionless, he had dealt with leaders before, if they were good negotiators they would find as much information as they could, then they could establish a baseline depending on the reaction, and finally they would build some form of comradery or fear should that fail. Seeing as the Director had allowed Harry into the conversation, whatever Jack Dakkar needed had already been approved. 

The science pirate smiled, Bones lifted a glass with one of his gloved hands. He sipped at the wine slowly before continuing for the captain “The Mirror House hosts auctions for the more depraved members of high society. Your job agent Black, aside of recuperating the Dream Ruby, is the gathering information on a woman that should have died thirty-two years ago.”

“What is his name?’

“Her name, agent Black, is Ayesha.” 

“In my youth I attempted to save one of her clones, Mister Ishmael was able to save me from my foolishness.” He gestured to his rather muscular guard. “Recent events have brought me to believe one of them managed to escape from the Lost Island.”

“In other words I’m going to poke the vipers nest until and hope the Basilisk bites my other arm.” Jack laughed, a rather loud bark that sounded unused. 

“Chances are the Mirror House has people in the Department so any items you may need for the mission will have to be acquired off the books.” Harry nodded his head, if they were smart they would take away his wand, he needed something small portable and rather destructive and he knew where to get it. 

“Sure thing, I have a few contacts in London-“

“You won’t be going to London, yet.” Agent Chase interrupted. “We have a polyjuiced agent in route to New York.”

“You actually managed to get someone to act like me?” He joked, but instantly dropped the smile. “Why?”

“Public relations Agent Black. We needed you to establish our presence in Gotham, you’re particularly well known in the magical world, well respected and feared. If the entity that has been stealing children is of magical origin it would have heard of you. It also allowed me time to talk with Agent Chase and as for your double it wasn’t that difficult, she has been watching you for a while.”

Harry’s eyes opened wide. “She?” He weezed, after choking on his own saliva. “What do you mean by she?”

“Nervous about something agent Black?” Chase mocked. The answer was yes, the DEO was a very tight nit organization and if someone knew something everyone knew it, because people in highly secretive organizations loved spreading rumors. Now, there was some woman that he didn’t know personally parading around as him in a city that he had a few friends in.

“Miranda Blake, your paths have crossed before.”

“John will never let me live this down.” Harry mumbled under his breath, his hand slowly rubbed his temple. “Where?”

“She works in the London field office.”

Of course, there were number of women working at any given time at the field office, but Miranda Blake was barely entered Harry’s social circle. She was too zealous in his opinion, the Inquisitor some called her, the second coming of Victor Ruiz. There was something cruel in those black dewy-eyes, it caused something almost primal to spark inside of him. In this case it was the very thought that he was being watched by her without his knowing sparked the slightest whispers of worry. ‘I should have invested in a spy glass when I had the chance.’ He thought to himself. 

“Transportation has been arranged you will depart in exactly one hour.” Captain Dakkar stated. “Mister Ishmael, follow me.” The woman bowed her head and followed her captain out of the extravagant dining hall. 

“Black.” The director called his name. “I cannot stress the importance of the Dream Ruby, but I need your focus on Ayesha as well.”

“Is she that dangerous?”

“Possibly.” He took a long drag of his cigar. “Like your last mission this will also fall under public relations, it been too quiet for too long we need allies.” The smoke flowed around his head lazily. “Blake will be waiting for you in room two-oh-five at the Avalon hotel in midtown Manhattan.”

Harry nodded his head slightly, but showed no real outward emotion. The Delacour family was influential in France, money, resources, and manpower, it made much more sense than some past connection with that he shared with Gabrielle. The Morrigan was undoubtedly preparing for war. With whom? He didn’t know; years of working for the DEO had him seeing enemies the shallowest of shadows. 

The Director waved them away with his free hand while he contemplated something. Chase stood up and Harry made to follow her. They move through countless corridors until stopping in front of a room. Harry followed her in, closing the door behind him. “How was she?” He finally asked.

“She suffered, Black.” Her voice held the slightest hints of humanity. “it could have been worse but she suffered. Last time I saw her she was asking for you. You got a medal. That why called in Blake.”

Harry nodded his head accepting the anwer  
o0o0o0o0o

Harry found himself with his wand and his goblin forged gauntlets staring at miles upon miles of open ocean atop the greatest of vessels, the wind road in his ears, and the smell of slat burned his nostrils, reminding him of the time he had traverse the Black Lake. The sun was just rising, the sky was an explosion of dark blues, bright yellows, and shades of red. If Legolas was to be believed blood had been spilt during the night. Flanking him were two men, one rather young and the other rather old, neither of them speaking a lick of English guided him to a rather impressive life boat. Like the Nautilus it metal was dark. Captain Dakkar’s voice broke through the wind. “You shall reach shore in an hour, Mister Michael and Mister Ahmed shall insure it.” Harry nodded, his hand gabbed the railing as he began his descent. The inside of the ship was especially spartan, it had five chairs, two large crates where, he assumed, food and medicals supplies could be found in case of an emergency, and a consul for steering. 

Ahmed sat on the controls while Michael sat over the near navigation charts. The sound of the ship detaching from the Nautilus startled Harry but not as much as the sudden drop and the lurch that followed. Every so often Michael would nudge Ahmed and he would shift to the right or the left. An hour passed before they reached land, just as the captain promised. They helped him off but before he could thank them for their services they had already set sail. 

And so Harry was left to wander through the streets of New York alone and without a clue as to where he was going. 

He let out a ragged sigh. 

‘At least tomorrow’s Halloween.’ He thought to himself and he was technically off duty, which was fine by him. At least one megalomaniac in a mask tried to pull off some overly complicated plot to either prove their superiority or world domination… or in the rare case of Zsasz, which was purely for the hell of it… well not really… the little ‘zombie’ hunter was rather mission oriented. 

A stray drop in a sea of madness.

‘Stray…’

With that Harry knew exactly where he could go. A smiled lightly as he headed up a dune and onto the road. With any luck Dotty would be there and she could point him in Beeman’s direction. If not he could always dig deeper, there had to be more than one reputable dealer of questionable goods in New York. If the worse came to pass he could just lay low, wait to back to London and pay a quick visit to Knockturn alley. 

Harry looked up onto the sky, the colors had melted away and was dominated pure blue sky. He stuck out his wand in the air and waited, in seconds Harry was surrounded by a thick fog, the thunder roared all around him, and the smell of exhaust drowned out the soothing scent of the sea. In a flash a bright yellow cab appeared right in front of him. The driver looked like little more than a child, with shaggy black hair and pale red eyes. To the casual observer it would pass as such, but to those trained in the arcane arts… or simply paid attention to professor Lupin’s classes could tell that it wasn’t the case, it was a Homunculus. They shared many traits with the inferi except being completely artificial and the incapability of harming any living human. They kept out of Gotham, specifically Slaughter Swamp. It stuck out its grey brittle hand awaiting payment. 

They didn’t talk, but they understood the art of equivalent exchange particularly well. “Dotty’s pets.”

Harry handed it a dozen sickles. The back seat door flew open allowing him access to the rear. Like most magical constructs the taxi was much larger on the inside than on the outside. That being said it wasn’t anything spectacular like the Knight bus, the leather was ripped and it stank of old coffee. It was empty though, to which Harry was thankful for, he and the city had a history. Some of he wasn’t particularly proud of… but it had more than a few up sides. Fighting the Cult of the Cold Flame, learning under Zatara and Necro, and even becoming friends with Zatanna and his fourth closest confidant John Constantine. 

Once he took a seat, the taxi took off like a jet. 

And stopped with a sudden lurch. The door opposite to him opposite to him opened and in came a man he’d seen in London nearly a week and a half ago. John slipped in without his trusty coat looked at him once before pulling himself into the cab. The next thing Harry knew, he was being hugged. Which was surprising considering how much of a shut in John was.

“Chris is dead.” Ah, John’s newest sidekick, Harry didn’t know the kid well but he seemed good enough. John let go, a fake smile plastered on his face. “I need a drink.” 

And truthfully so did Harry, with John there he could there he could find Beeman and get to the Avalon with the things he needed. 

‘A perfect plan if there ever was one.’ He thought to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV: For those who Dream…

‘All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.’

-T.E. Lawrence

o0o0o0o0o

The Joint bar was a quaint little hole in the floor of an ever changing city, the counter was made out of oak, as were the shelves, and the stools… and if Lloyd had his way so would everything else. All jokes aside it was a little pub like Time in a Bottle, without the heroes, or the history, or anything that made interesting, except that the drinks were free for John and by extension Harry. Why? Harry didn’t particularly know, and after spending the day with a mournful John he didn’t particularly care. It was just like John to bring an inexperienced tag along on his crusades, the only real problem Harry had with it was that John wouldn’t stick his neck out for them. 

And this time wasn’t any different.

There was an upside, John was particularly easy to persuade and took him to the Beeman. The mousy little man had a history of collecting rare and useful relics, from Screech Beetles to a copy of the Crime Bible. Forty Galleons could by a wooden box with a cylinder of Dragon’s Breath, a box of Screech Beetles, two glass balls filled liquid fire, and a pair of silver brass knuckles. That box was safely stowed away in his satchel. Lloyd looked nervous, Harry noticed, every few minutes his eyes would dart to the door and then back at John. It had been hours since the two magicals entered the bar.

Something was wrong.

“John, you didn’t cross Papa, did ya?” Lloyd finally asked, his voice was tense and he was sweating profusely.

The exorcist just smiled. “It’s a beautiful day… outside… not a cloud in the sky…”  
Lloyd eyes widened, and Harry stood up from his stool and looked at him. John kept smiling while he dipped his finger into his drink. Harry flicked his wrist bringing his wand into his hand. 

“Oh God…” Lloyd whispered faintly. “You did.”

The door burst open and three tall, muscular men with shaved heads and tattooed faces. Two of them had their mouths sown shut and carried guns, the third wielded a rusty looking crowbar. “JOHN CONSTATINE! Papa’s been calling you. You don’t hear so good, or what Ringo?”

One of them put his gun to Harry’s head and forced him to sit down, the other kept his distance but kept the gun aimed at Lloyd. John stood up from his stool, still smiling, “It was nice chatting with you guys. Now if you’d excuse me, I’ll be off with the Haitians.”

Harry kept his mouth shut, biding his time. “Really Ringo? You think you can ignore Papa for three days and get away with it?” Harry shook his head as the man grinned and swung the crowbar into John’s torso.

“Jesus!” Lloyd cried out. “He said he’d go with you!”

“Relax. He’s gonna go with us.” He chuckled, hitting john straight down the middle of the poor exorcist back. “Right Ringo? But don’t worry Papa said he got one hit for every day he made us wait.”

John, being the Jackass he was couldn’t hold an insult in. “Can’t you count?” he taunted. “ I was gone for three days.”

“Why you-“ Harry felt the barrel of the gun brush against the back of his head. Years of being a seeker had refined his reflexes in completely unbalanced footing, which after drinking a few pints with John fell into that type of situation. Harry pulled the gun out of his captor’s hand and shot him point blank in the chest. The one aiming at Lloyd took a shot just as Harry tripped. From the floor Harry shot of two more bullets, one blew out the knee, the harmlessly lodged itself onto the wall. Recovering from his slight fall Harry aimed both his gun and his wand at the crowbar wielding leader.

“Now if you’d kindly take a step back.” The man took a swing at John shoulders, breaking it. “Expeli-.” A black wave of fire pushed Harry against the bar the impact blacked his vision and filled his nose with the smell of blood. It took him a moment to regain his senses, and when he did fear managed to pierce through his alcohol induced courage. Standing at the entrance of the small bar was a tall lean, yet muscular man, with a bald head, and a necklace of bone, Harry had met the man a few times, the last time was less than four years prior and had counted the man among his allies.

“It seems I was right to worry.” He spoke in a whisper but his deep voice carried across the room. Walking over to John’s withering body Papa nodded at Harry. “Using your friend as shield, John… I would say I’m disappointed with you but I do not wish to repeat myself.” He picked up John by the back of his neck and turned to Harry. “ I hold no grudge with you Watcher, but this is my city.” An aura formed around Papa Midnite, Harry heard the impact before he felt the impact. “No one disrespects me in my city,” Harry’s was thrown clear across the room and through the window. “Be gone.”

The adrenaline pumping through his body numbed the pain of the first impact, but less so the second. Harry eyes slowly closed. He was tired, no, better to say exhausted. He should have expected something like it would happen, but he had seen a friend in grief and had rushed to is side, ignoring the warning ringing in his head.

But it wasn’t in his nature to watch someone he cared about wallow in pain, so he took the risk, forced the fight, and sacrifice to ensure their safety. Even for like someone like John. 

By the time Harry was able to stand on his own two feet a black van surrounded by magical energy zoomed away from the bar. Harry pointed his wand at it but before he was able to fire off a single spell he noticed the slight blue tinge in the air, Harry looked at his ruined shirt, on it was rune written in blood, from what Harry wasn’t certain but he did recognize what it did. It was a Snare. A true snare, unlike the plant, trapped a person between Faerie and the material world, a special pocket in the universe where a person could walk around but couldn’t interact with anyone or anything from material world regardless of skill or magic. “Hell.” Harry cursed under his breath, the world shifted around him from, the smells of the city disappeared replaced by the scent of the earth, grass covered the concrete, and the lampposts became trees. New York city had become an urban forest.

It was, without a doubt, hunter’s dream.

A scream echoed through the darkness, filled with pain and despair, but it let Harry know he was definitely not alone. Harry briefly contemplated pulling one of the two swords in his satchel. “No.” A person couldn’t hide when their weapons glowed. Harry twirled his wand as he rushed into the direction of the scream. As an agent of the Department of Extranormal Operations it was his solemn duty to protect humans from the dangers of magic. 

Muggles or Magus, it made little difference. 

The screams became louder the longer he ran, but it also became weaker. He could tell the scream belonged to a woman, a magical by the feel in the air. There was the lingering possibility that he was being led into a trap, for example a Black Banshee could be using an echo of a consumed soul. That theory was quickly dashed when turned a corner and nearly stumbled over the origin of the scream. The woman he that he nearly stumbled was nothing less than a vision, her body was covered in what used to be a white cloak but was tainted by a growing pool of blood. Her skin was fair and, from what he could see, was flawless, to the point that he wondered where the blood was coming from. Her hair was black as the Black Lake on a moonless night. The color of her eyes were the most captivating shade of indigo he’d ever seen. He was momentarily stunned by her beauty, either because of the drink that lingered in his body or simply because of her beauty he didn’t know, but he quickly recovered an kneeled by her side. Harry pulled his satchel from his side onto his knees and quickly twisted a small dial on the side. When it opened there was as close to an apothecary. “Hello, I’m Harry, I am no healer but I’ll try my best.” Harry smiled in attempt to reassure the most certainly dying woman. “What’s your name?” Harry pulled out a needle and a small vile of morphine. It would dull the pain enough that the pain of restorative magic wouldn’t outright kill her.

“Rachel…” She said, 

“Its pleasure to meet you Rachel, just wish it wee under more amicable circumstances. Now, I apologize if this offends you in any way but I need to see the wound.” Harry looked into her eyes hoping that she wouldn’t make it too difficult, she simply looked onto the distance seemingly incapable of registering his words.

“Rachel… fin” She stated coughing a warm shower of blood sprayed onto harry, Harry moved the cloak away from over the wound, he cringed at the sight. There was a gaping hole just under her right breast, he was certain she was going to die even if he were a healer. There was a slight discoloration around the wound, but it was the smell that called his attention it smelled like rot, the type rot that could be smelled on creatures like the Inferni but older… much older. Harry lifted Rachel’s arm and injected her with the morphine. hen suffer... Because this is far worse... It will take her to a lush meadow with the light of summer, she would lie down in the soft grass and bask in the sun and feel nothing but bliss and she would never want to return to this frozen pisshole in the snow that’s known as life. Harry scowled. He was once again incapable of saving a life “Find… Rachel.” She tried to raise herself off the ground, pushing Harry away when he tried to stop her. “Azarath… Metrion. ” She chanted repeated, she found strength in her chant. “Azarath… Metrion,.. Zinthos.” She took a few steps before her legs gave way, luckily he was there to catch her.

“Easy there.” He said laying her down nearby a faded out wall. She struggled against him until he right hand clasped her face “I’ll find her dear, just relax.” Harry wasn’t a fan of lying to a dying woman but if he could offer any form of comfort he tried to do it. “Tell me what happened.”

“He found us.” She gasped. “He called himself Destiny.” Harry nodded, he groaned silently in his head, sometimes he liked being wrong about things like that. He would love a nice holiday without having to worry about some narcissistic asswipe and their diabolical plan. “He dragged her away…” Harry placed the tip of wand at the edge of the wound.

“Tergeo” The dried blood faded away, the good news was that it wasn’t worse than he originally thought, bad news was he it wasn’t much better either. “Vulnera Sanetur” A gentle glow emanated from his wand, but it was much too late.

“There were so many more of us.” Her eyes began to close and her breath became more labored. “He made us beasts… he made us do so many things.” Her last words trembled with horrors left unspoken. Harry could see the life leave her half lidded eyes. He felt a anger fuel his heart but it was quickly drowned away by guilt. He sat still for what felt like hours but in truth only a few minutes passed.

It was soon after Harry closed his satchel, stood up, and brushed the dirt off his pants. It was never a wise to stay still when trapped in a snare. He looked around for a trail of blood, a man calling himself Destiny wasn’t going to stop with single victim, he needed to prove himself to the world as its master. As if by magic of sunlight reflected off of the seemingly glowing blood, so he began walking away from the woman in the white cloak.

o0o0o0o0o

Harry followed the growing trail of blood she had traveled nearly forty minutes, he could feel hunger creeping onto him and a growing thirst. The presence of the indigo eyed woman worried Harry. Her robes were reminiscent of those of an Unspeakable and they usually stayed in their Ministries with the exception during times of war, each country chose sported a different color but none of them dared too sport white. Why? He wasn’t certain but it had to do with purity or some such nonsense. English Unspeakables wore red cloaks with gold accents, while the French had a light blue with moon touched silver, and the Bulgarians wore obsidian armor. They were much more secretive than the DEO. Hell, Morrigan had half the department looking into their origins at any given time.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he failed to notice a mass of red cloth that was lying directly at his feet, it tangled his legs. The blow was sobering to say the least, knocking any of the remaining haze that lingered from his mind. Harry rolled away and pointed his wand at the cloth, a silver fox shot out from the tip of his wand sending a blast towards, what Harry suspected to be, Lethifold. The patronus soared harmlessly through the rag like a gas before turning towards Harry expectantly before slowly fading away. He pulled the reddish cloth from his feet and studied it with critical eyes. It had been white at some point but blood had dried, it was ripped as if mauled by a beast. Looking around he found the suspected owner leaning against a wall naked with his eyes in the palm of his hands. There were others men and women, all missing their eyes and were posed in different fashions, some more degrading than others… especially the women. The anger was apparent bruises on their faces and bodies, throats were slits and the intestines were ritualistically placed on the floor… like goat intestines during the Witches’ Sabbath in the Iron Forest. 

It was absolutely barbaric.

“How odd…” A voice rang from behind him. “Why are you different from the rest?” Harry aimed his wand at the blue cloaked, skull faced man that stepped out of the shadows. “How do you resist the will of Dee?”

“You did this?” It was more of a statement than it was question. A hollow laugh echoed from behind the skull faced bastard, but the man himself seemed to growl.

“You dare address Destiny!” He growled, his robe billowed in the wind. “I hope you’ll prove more entertaining than the Dream-Fucker.” He extended his hand, three shadows formed behind him, one picked up a sack while the others darted towards Harry. “Take her to the warehouse.” He instructed the wraith.

‘Run.’ Harry thought as stumbled through the darkness, under a mutating sky. His shield sparkled as it was struck with enough force to send him crashing into a nearby fence. His vision blurred and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the drinks he shared with John or because that thing had knocked him on his head. Harry aimed his wand at the moving shadow. It shared its likeness with that of a dementor but unlike the black robed nightmare, the creature attacking Harry held no definite shape, except for a grinning white mask. Harry dropped his shield to fire off a bombarda, but before he could a tendril of black energy latched onto his wrist and cut into skin. Harry turned his head to find himself inches away from another grinning white mask. The next instant had Harry screaming as his blood felt like it were being set a flame. On instinct he poured his magic into the gauntlets, the shield roared into existence in an explosion of blue. The shadow retreated and joined the other circling Harry.

Harry’s couldn’t feel his right arm, but he felt a glimmer of hope shimmered to the for front of his mind. His left hand enclosed around his bleeding wrist. Time seemed to still as his eyes fell upon his empty wand hand. A shadow swooped down taking something from the floor and handing it to the skull faced villain. Later Harry would learn that the ite taken was his beautiful wand. The shadows took their opportunity to smash into Harry’s shield. Exhaustion hit first, the adrenal high leaving his body leaving his core to take the strain of the gauntlets. Slowly but surely the shield flickered away and the shadows gleefully dug into the exhausted wizard. One tendril wrapped around his left leg, another dug into his neck, and anther dug into his rib cage and wrapped around his heart. 

He burned.

He burned until he couldn’t feel the burn anymore. He felt death approaching, slowly, and not for the first time in his miserable life Harry felt, he wanted to welcome it but found that his desire to live grow stronger. The shadows stilled, before retreating from his body. The fall knocked the air out of his lungs. He heard light footsteps approaching him. The shadows flew away into the twilight. Harry struggled to focus his vision on the approaching figure, but the pavement was cold, like the floor of the astronomy tower, a sharp contrast to the blood pooling around him and he was so tired… so very, very tired. The figure sat down next to Harry and placed his head on her lap. She gently ran her hand through his hair, and with every movement the pain seemed to ease away. “I’m sorry.” She whispered soothingly, “I can’t take you with me just yet.” Harry stared at the silver ankh that hung loosely from her neck. “Dream…” Harry felt a single grain dust touch his face and an instant later darkness consumed him.

o0o0o0o0o

‘There are moments in the dark where it consumes you. Where you feel like your drowning and hopes is far out of reach. That dawning horror that you do not want to see the light, because all it would do is illuminate the terrifying things surrounding you. It’s hopelessness. It’s giving up. It’s knowing that the world will never be a better place. That the only thing protecting you is not knowing what new horror will come around the bend. Moments like that… I’d wager are the closest thing to feeling hell on Earth.’ John had told him once, Harry hadn’t even cracked a smile. He was too angry to care, too full of self loathing to draw himself away from the cheap swill in his cup. Zatanna was preforming card tricks on stage for her own amusement, or was it for John? Maybe it was… Nick hadn’t left his study for the umpteenth week in a row.

It was around that time Harry wondered what he was still doing in New York… Zatara was on an adventure, and Nick was obsessed with lore to teach him anything. Tomes of magic or some such nonsense, in other words some type of archaic magic that wouldn’t help him the slightest with finding Orphan. The magic he needed came with a cost, in his case it had him joining the Trenchcoat Brigade. Nothing bad particularly, in his opinion… at least he was learning the tricks of the trade. Tricks that were out of the Old Man’s domain. 

The guilt hit him unexpectedly the endless numbers of what if’s bombarded him again. ‘If he had finished his training could it have saved her?’ or ‘ If he just learned one more Morgana-be-damned lesson could he have stopped that monster?’ Eventually they just made him numb to the world around him. So he stared at the green drink in his hands, he watched as the ice cracked and melted away, it reminded him of the glimmer that her jade eyes once held. Not for the first time in that year did Harry wonder if there was Blofeld type character that had it in his mind that taking the people that he loved away from him was a good idea. 

He stared at the drink for what felt like seconds. He had been brought back into the world by the sudden vibrations coming from his chest. The bar was empty with only a few of the shadier regulars remained. John was gone probably back to his flat with Zatanna. He pulled out his little black phone. “Hello?” He remembered saying. 

“Harry!” Zee’s voice broke through static. She was probably in the metro he had deduced. “We’re on our way to Nick’s. They found him.” 

“Who-“ Harry caught the shift in light off his drink, he felt a cold hand wrap around the back of his neck and slam his head against the bar’s wooden counter top. His attacker then let him slide down the bar. Harry pulled a shard of glass from his already scarred face, he turned just in time to grab a kick aimed to his face. While using the brutes momentum to stand up Harry pulled out his wand and sent him flying. The man slammed against the opposite wall. “You have to be kidding with me!” He shouted. 

It was then that Harry got a good look at his assailant, tall, muscular, skin as white snow, and silver hair. “All shall fall to the cold flames.” The man said in monotone, Harry gripped his wand tighter and lashed out. Blood splattered across room covering him in his entirety. A burning cold erupted from his chest as he felt a cold hand wrap around his neck. 

o0o0o0o0o

Harry awoke with a start, his skin glistened with a cold sweat, his throat burned something fierce, and his skull felt like Croc had put it through it’s a Small World all over again. His body lurched forward and his hands flew to his chest grasping for an invisible blade. A memory shifting into a dream wasn’t something that happened to him regularly… they usually stayed to script or they didn’t happen at all. Nausea hit him quickly. Harry stumbled off of the couch and came as close to sprinting as he was able to, he nearly tripped over himself when a stray beam of light struck his face. There were reasons he didn’t go out with John often, the massive hangover he had to suffer through was one of the many mains. Harry kneeled in front of the porceline throne and released the contents of his stomach. For a brief moment he contemplated how quickly he found the bathroom but those thoughts were quickly squelched by a feminine shadow that slowly settled over him, hands on its’ hips, he could feel its icy glare land on the back of his head. 

Oh, how he wished for death… 

“Did you have fun last night?” The voice undoubtedly belonged to non other than the famous Zatanna Zatara, daughter of the late Giovanni Zatara and the late Sindella Zatara, a prominent witch from Turkey. Harry slowly turned his head, green met blue eyes, and Harry quickly regretted squinting. She took it as a challenge “Ekaw mih pu!” Water slithered out from the faucet and smacked him across the face. If any event could have confirmed that Harry was cursed it would be when Harry became best friends with both her and John Constantine, because everything was fine for while, John and her were happy, but as always fate had a very interesting way of fucking it up. Giovanni died and Zatanna broke up with John, but he still loves her and Harry was, sort of, swept up in the middle of that mess. Not that he was complaining Zatanna was his second closest living friend, of course after Daphne… because if he said any different the woman would most likely immolate him.

“I’m not sure.” He managed. “What exactly happened?”

There was a pause and then came a rather loud scoff. 

Now that made Harry slightly worried, not that she scoffed it was a common enough occurrence that he would under normal circumstances he would pass it off, it was that type scoff he’d only heard her use on John when he’d done something completely and utterly nonsensical, which was way too often around her. She leveled her cold glare his way. “I was hoping you’d fill in the blanks, you see, the door man found you bleeding outside.”

Harry stood up slowly, shifting his weight from leg to leg. The room seemed to spin around him, memories flooded back with overwhelming speed. The clearest was him and John stepping into the Joint Bar to meet up with good old Lloyd. A few hours into the drinking, an hour before sundown, three men came in, apparently normal muggles, but they knew John, they were quick to put a gun to Harry’s head and knowing John he already had a plan. Harry shook his head, he’d rushed in like with the Hatter case the week prior, they’d started beating on John, he hadn’t expected that. Harry had dodged the bullet sluggishly, disarmed him and managed to wound the other two. But that wasn’t why he’d been hurt, no, the bar doors had burst open with a wave of some of the foulest magic he had felt since the graveyard. It’s hard to protect people and fight an experience dark wizard regularly less so when he was piss drunk. He certainly wasn’t ready for a fight with THE Papa Midnite. “I got into bit of a scuffle.” Harry moved to the sink. “John owed something, I think, and I got In the middle of it.” Harry grimaced at his reflection, he looked like shit… more so than he usually did. He remembered stumbling away from the bar, a child’s scream, maybe, but it just went blank “But there’s something I’m missing… “ He turned to Zatanna. “What exactly did you give me?” His voice was calm, but held a tinge of something dangerous. Midnite wasn’t stupid and hadn’t damaged him too badly, the DEO would drop a hammer on the man if he seriously hurt one of their agents, and judging by Zatanna’s greeting he’d been hit to hell and back. 

“Wiggenweld mostly, a few restorative draughts, dittany to close the wounds.” Harry gargled water, That explained a lot actually. Alcohol and potions didn’t mix well with each other to begin with, add Lycanthropic cells and he had a three way chemical battle. The potions attacked the Lycanthropic cells, because they mirrored an infection, and the sugar in the alcohol just boosted both sides. Side effects: memory loss, aggression, and the unbearable need to purge one’s system. “What happened, Harry?”

“John felt the need to cross Papa Midnite, but he left me standing,.” He paused. “How long was I unconscious?” 

“Eight hours. Closer to nine, at least, you pretty much dragged yourself back here ” She was getting angry and Harry could tell he was royally pissing her off. ”God dammit, Harry! What happened?!”

“I don’t know!” It was less than a roar and more than a growl, Harry liked keeping things in his mind in order, it was really the only thing he had complete control. He was breathing heavily. He lifted his hands up in surrender, anger clouded his mind to much to effectively speak. How could he? Memory was everything he had, a series of random events that tied together forming him, nothing more and nothing less. “I honestly can’t remember, Zee. “ Zatanna stared at him but stayed quiet. “But I’m going to find out.”

“No.”

“No?”

“We’re going to find out.”

“No,” He protested. “I’m not putting you in danger.”

“Excuse me?” She huffed. “How do you plan on stopping me?” She had him there… she had a wand while he was pretty much left without a focus and even if she didn’t have a wand her proficiency with wandless magic was much higher than his… blackmail it was then.

“I could tell people about the time you-“

“I should hex you for even mentioning that, but considering you’re under oath…” She trailed off smiling cruelly. 

‘Okay, Harry dig deep, there has to be something you can use.’ “I’ll tell John your middle name.” When all else fails, bluff. 

“I don’t have one. Harry, I’m coming with you, whatever tried to kill you nearly tore you apart.”

“I was drunk.”

“You’re hurt, and that makes as easy a target as if you were still drunk.”

“Not true.” 

“You could barely waddle into the bathroom. I don’t think you can lift your wand, let alone fight.“

Harry tried to prove her wrong by snatching the toothbrush from the sink but found that his arms were too bruised. Upon closer inspection Harry noted a rather nasty looking scab that went around the entirety of left thigh.

“Just hand me my satchel.” He groaned. “I have a way.” She stared at Harry skeptically. 

“Later,” She decided. “You need to eat something.”

“Did you get a house-elf?”

“Of course not.” She was insulted. Zatanna was firm supporter of the Neo- S.P.E.W. movement led of course by Ms. Granger. “Who do you take me for?”

“No one, Zee.” He tried to smile. He needed to take her mind off what happened. “I just remember what happened last time you cooked for me.” There it was, the blackmail he could have used when he had the chance. 

“I did that once!”

“And I’m not giving you a chance to repeat it.” If there was one thing he was thankful to Petunia Dursley for it was teaching him how to cook. A bit of humor… to take his mind off the foggy memories that hid the coming darkness.

o0o0o0o0o

The sun had set and the moon was high over the sky, goblins and mermen walked openly through the streets. The wind howled between the buildings but Harry couldn’t feel it, his skin was covered by intricately woven chain mail, it kept the small bite of fall from ever reaching him. The suit of Sorrows was a remarkable piece of magic. In a way it was sentient, influencing the wearer into becoming the perfect warrior, no mercy, no compromise, it would make the Old Man proud, in exchange it gave the wearer the collective strength, stamina, and dexterity of all those proud warriors who came before him. No one knew where it came from, some legends claimed it was made from the pelt of the Nimian lion and others claimed that it was made from blessed silver in the forges under the Vatican and given to Sir Geoffrey De Cantonna, whichever myth held merit he wasn’t sure, what he was sure was the Order of Purity had been using it for centuries before the Gotham incident. 

Azrael, the nightmare, had been spotted throughout history beginning in the thirteenth century when there were two of him. Duality, harmony… Sin and Salvation… words made steel, they ran through his mind like honey-coated daggers. 

They wanted blood. 

Harry shook his head trying to clear it. The suit was in a sorry state and because of it wailed, it had a hole right in the center of the red cross where Harry had stuck the glowing blue blade. He would have fixed it if not for the suits resistance to magic. The red cape flayed wildly, he wasn’t completely sure that it was because of the wind. Zee walked next to him shooting worried glances when she thought he wasn’t looking. She knew the history of the suit much better than he did, he knew that but he never asked how. He was sure it had to do with Batman, or whomever hid under that black cowl. She dressed in her ‘usual’ uniform, well usual since she joined the Justice League, a black and purple shall covering a white and black unitard/corset. white gloves, and knee high black boots. 

The first Halloween Harry spent in New York he had awoken in an amazing penthouse, tied to an out of place plastic chair looking over Central Park. Papa Midnite had come up behind him and had inadvertently quoted the Lion King by claiming everything he saw belonged to him. The second had him standing at the funeral of an old friend, Nick had betrayed them and he had payed the price. The third he had been inducted as one of the elite agents of the DEO. There seemed to be a correlation between Samhain and change, usually for the darker. This Halloween was starting to feel the same as he wandered the streets following his own patronus, 

“You’re being too quiet.” She said worriedly.

Harry turned his head ever so slightly. “I am?” Harry tried to keep the surprise from his voice. “Its nothing, my mind just keeps escaping me.” Which was partly true, the more time his blood had to settle down the more he began to remember, he certainly didn’t like what he saw. ‘Dee, Monster, DESTINY, FALSE PROPHET!’ The Suit shouted in his mind and Harry was struggling to find a reason to disagree. He wasn’t a fan of the Sorrow and it definitely wasn’t a fan of him. It protected the wearer from outside influences but at the same time it slowly ingrained itself into a their minds. It also had this nasty knack of nullifying spell, which made hi beloved wand useless. Occlumancy was his best and only defense… which was another reason that he wanted Zatanna as far away from this mess as magically possible. “You know its not too late to turn back?”

“And let you have all the fun?” 

He sighed behind his mask. He could trust her. She was powerful and skilled, if bit reckless and had had terrible choices in men. Sadly, that wasn’t the problem, he didn’t feel she should trust him, not while wearing the Sorrow at least. Destiny wasn’t much of a threat while wore the crusader’s armaments, Harry was though and as much as he knew he sounded like that vampire in that serial Daphne loved to read, he actually had a valid point. 

One slip and it was over. 

“So where are we heading?”

“Just following the trail.”

“What trail?”

“My blood.” Whatever the thing that had attacked him was it and its buddy got themselves soaked in his blood, which he could follow using the ring on his right ring finger. It was black with the House of Black’s crest delicately etched into it, besides being a family heirloom it had a singular purpose. If the head of House ever needed to find blood, knowingly given or unknowingly taken, he would will the ring to guide him or her to the largest quantity outside of the their bodies. Nifty trick that kept many men and women from the Black line from being betrothed to those the House thought were of lesser standing. “We could be walking into a trap.” He pointed out.

“Or we could be onto something.” She shot back. “Look, Harry you’re leaving, at most two days from now and this is my city. Batman has his thing in Gotham, Superman has his thing in Metropolis and I have my thing here.” She stood in front of him. “if some psycho is going to be randomly tear people. People as strong as you. I have to try to stop him.”

“Zee…” Merlin’s beard, he wished she didn’t have a point. As soon as he hit Avalon he was sure Agent Blake would have him carted back to London. “Alright.” 

They kept their eyes wide open, moving their body to face the more out of place motions in the city. The walked north, until they reached the edge of the city were the only buildings that remained were ruined factories and crumbling warehouses. Harry pulled out Salvation from his stachel, its purging blue flame glowed sinisterly in the low light. “Stay close.” She nodded, her hand glowing an almost ethereal shade of purple. ‘They are near.’ The Sorrow seemed to whisper in his ear. ‘They wish to corrupt this world with their twisted malfeasance. Let them know my name.’ There was an unnatural silence. Harry readied himself for the worst as the proceeded into the ruins. “We should have brought John.” Harry muttered under his breath. 

“Like he’d help.”

“He would.” There was a chain link fence between them and where the ring was telling him to go. Harry jumped clear over the fence land silently on his feet.

“Nepo.” Links in the fence unraveled in allowing the very talented witch to make her way through. “Esolc. In an instant they tangled together again. “No, he wouldn’t. he didn’t even ask about you when he came by yesterday. He was more worried about Jaimini Sargent. He didn’t even ask if I’d seen you Harry.” Did it sting that John had such a one tracked mind? Yes, yes it did. Did it surprise him? No. John had always been like that and he wasn’t going to change for anyone… well maybe for her but that wasn’t happening any time soon. There was a time and a place for every battle, before stopping a megalomaniac wasn’t one of those times. Harry shook his head and continued walking. “Did you know Jaimini?”

“That she’d gone insane? No. I would have owl’d you if I’d had.” The ring pulled him towards a brick building with no windows and a single door. “Do you have plan?” He asked.

“I always do.” She answered confidently. “ Tuo fo eht ssenkrad eb deggard.” For nearly seven seconds nothing happened but then he felt a pressure build around him and one by one the masked shadows were ripped out of the building with a grand total of four. “Niartser.” By that point Harry had broken into a dead sprint into the building.

Harry expected many things, a gory mess for example or a sacrificial chamber. He did not expect a laboratory. Nor did expect for Dee to calmly be waiting at the entrance. “I had my doubts about you.” He sounded happy, which disturbed Harry greatly. “You almost had me convinced, for a second a split second, I had thought that he hadn’t sent you. But Dee knows better than to be fooled by him again.” He gestured at the empty containers that sat to is left. “He can’t touch me now and he knows it. Why he sent you, isn’t it?” He started laughing, a strange scratch sound in the back of his throat. “What did he promise you? Sweet dream? I can give you better, so much better than that dream-fucker! That why I made them.” Several containers opened at once, and out of them masses of vines, teeth and tentacles shot out towards Harry. With the suit, Harry easily cut through them with skill and precision. One by one, two by two, he cut them in half. But an old lesson the old man taught Harry came true. As many Harry cut down more seemed to spawn and just Harry was about reach Dee one of the flowers latched on to Harry’s free arm, then another wrapped around his legs and so until Harry was mere inches away from Dee. “How boring.” He commented, Harry took a swing that cut through the side of the mask revealing a very pink skull like face. The next swing cut through Dee’s belt where his wand clattered out. “That’s more like it!” Dee took another step back and reached for something in the shadows. Harry struck down another flower like creature and was prepared to lop the mans head of when he pulled a girl in front of She had short black hair and her skin was grey, she wore an indigo coat that reminded Harry of the woman in white. A gleaming red crystal gleamed on her forehead. One of the plants was stuck to her chest yet she was sleeping peacefully as far as he could tell “Not as strong as my ruby but it’s a start.” A moment of hesitation was all one of those plants needed to jump onto his chest and dig its teeth into him. The vines coiled around him and dug under his armor. “Tell the coward Dee sent ya.”

Harry tried pull the thing off him but found that had stopped responding. He saw Zee burst in her hands spewing fire, but there was no sound. 

Only sleep.

o0o0o0o0o 

Harry awoke surrounded by warmth, true, beautiful, and all encompassing warmth. A hand touched the left side of his face, almost instinctively he pulled away but the hand persisted, it gently caressed him as a weight slowly settled on top of him. The hand retreated and weight shifted, it straddling him. Harry opened his slowly opened his eyes, he smiled up at the woman. Harry rose up to meet her, capturing her lips in his own, he made to flip them over but was kept in place by his lovers powerful legs. Their bodies pressed together furiously, with an almost animal like heat. She pined his arms down next to his head and bit into his shoulder. She had either not noticed the part of her hear not protected by her long silky black hair or chose to ignore it, Harry took the to repay her little mark with his own. Her grip lessened allowing him enough time to switch their position. He hovered over grinning, her beautiful green eyes locked onto his. Harry kissed his way down her perfectly toned body, but just as he reached her heat the joys of fatherhood smashed though the door. In one fluid motion Harry had covered both himself and his lover with the comforter. “Cassandra, what have I told you about smashing through doors like that?” The eight year-old Cassandra simply tilted her head and smiled, the girl had never been one for words, she briefly shook her head and with her the unruly mop of black hair jiggled. “That’s right, not too.” 

“Hungry.” She tapped her stomach to accentuate her point. 

“Give us a minute, and I’ll make us some eggs, sweetheart.” She pouted but eventually left the room. Harry smiled and turned to look at the woman under him. “You know she get’s that from you, right?”

“I disagree, my love, she definitely get her hair from you.” Harry rolled off of her.

“And here I was trying to compliment your immense beauty, Carolyn.” He kissed her tenderly. The woman tasted like glory and in his humble opinion she couldn’t get any more perfect, he would have stayed in bed if allowed but Cassandra was a stubborn one and she would resort to some rather drastic measures to get what she wanted. 

She definitely didn’t get that from him. 

Carolyn was the first to leave the bed as per usual she would take Cassandra outside to do her katas while Harry made breakfast. Harry looked out the window and saw a clear sky, perfect for flying. He’d visit in the afternoon to see how babysitting for Daphne was going or maybe see if Sirius is actually seriously considering settling down.

All in all it was just another beautiful day. 

In a perfect world.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V: For those who Wake… (Part 1)

“For in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own. Let them swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud.”

-Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

o0o0o0o0o

Zatanna watched Harry run briefly before turning her attention onto shadows. She had never seen anything like them in the entirety of her life. They were definitely ancient and immensely powerful. Even at a distance she could see the magic restraining them being leeched away. Her father had never made mention of these beasts and he had her study any number of creatures before letting her venture out in the world. They screeched and thrashed to no avail, yet she knew the how dangerous creature. She deftly moved into a counter clockwise circle. 

“Morf siht enalp eb dehsinab!” She commanded, just as one of them managed to rip through the containment field. She spread her arms wide and with it she forced a door into existence. It was a simple black wooden door that led… well away. She didn’t particularly care if they landed in Dis or even in Faerie, they wouldn’t be hurting any innocents again. The door swung open, creating a strong vacuum.

They screamed and wailed as one by one they were sucked into the absolute dankness that loomed behind the door. The door swung closed with a resounding smack and faded as fast as it had come into existence. 

She turned her attention to the crumbling building where her friend had run into it. The distinct blue and red glow of those terrible weapons Harry claimed were useful. She disliked them for many reasons but it would always be Harry’s choice. He moved them with fluidity and no small amount of power. He was being attacked by black, purplish plant like creatures. She could have set fire to the air inside the building but she knew that he could easily be caught blast. She saw him slow his white and red suit was being weighed down by the plants. As she reached the door she cast a more controlled spell. “Erif ssik.” She breathed in deep and released her breath like dragon. In moments the plants became nothing more than cinder. 

A skull faced man hid behind a grey skinned girl while Harry stood petrified a few feet away, turning to ace her. The girl’s eyes matched her indigo cloak, but they were empty as if her spirit was not there. Zatanna studied her face before her gaze fell on to the black flower that had taken root in her chest. “Harry?”

“Another one?” The skull masked figure asked. “Is he so terrified of me that he sends children?” 

‘What did you do to him?!” Her eyes blazed with fury.  
He laughed. “How pathetic, his champion fails and he already sends another?” Dee pulled the gray skinned girl closer to him. “Unsporting, utterly unsporting.” 

“Answer me!”

“Who are you to question a God? If only I had time…” He trailed off. “No, I don’t. You’re lucky. I can’t, she waits for me. She’s so near.”

“Niartser mih.” Cables fell from the ceiling and wrapped around Dee still t he did not relinquish his hold on the girl. “What did you do to him?”

“Come on little bird.” He whispered. The grey skinned girl’s eyes shot open, glowing bright with eldritch power “Take me away.” A black shadow rose from the floor and took the shape of a great bird. Its black wings cut the cables, and its cry sent shock waves through the makeshift laboratory. The machines began to flicker and spark, Zatanna was forced to raise her arms in an effort to shield her eyes.

“Pots!” She cried out, but it meant little. Whatever magic the girl possessed was like a hurricane in sheer force, it was similar to that of the creatures she had confronted outside but was infinitely darker and much greater.

It could never be said that Zatanna was a novice when it came to the Arcane arts, but this wasn’t her particular field of study. John, she admitted begrudgingly, was a decent exorcist and would have effectively neutralized the girl with one of his more elaborate tricks; Harry was reasonably knowledgeable when it came to creatures and had enough magical power to take care of himself, but he was as stubborn as an ill tempered ass. He either never realizes when he’s out of his depth or he simply never cared enough about himself to notice it; Nick… she didn’t want to think about him. When she dropped her arms the great black bird was already melting into the floor. 

Zatanna ran a hand through her long, black hair, shaking off pieces of rubble that had lodged themselves in it. Her eyes drifted over to the Harry’s still body. He was standing up with his back straight facing away from her. He hadn’t moved. She approached him with a great deal of caution, knowing that whatever managed stop him in that accursed pile of metal could very well tear through whatever last second shield she could pull up. She noted a few smoldering black vines that’s edges she had managed to burn to near cinder. They coiled around Harry’s arms, legs, and torso. 

She walked around him and let out a startled gasp a wreath of purple flowers sprouted from the center of the Suit’s red cross. Zatanna tentatively threaded her fingers around the cowl, expecting some sort of magical backlash, the white and red helmet shined under the silver light. Centuries of battle reflected on the worn metal, deep scratches and general discoloration were clearly visible. She could feel the magic emitted by the Suit coursing through her hands. She clasped the helmet with both hands, and carefully, she lifted it.   
There were vines digging into the base of his neck. Harry’s skin was paler than usual. His pupils were completely dilated and frozen on a fixed point in the distance. His eyes shown clearer than his unusually green eyes. 

“Harry?” She tried shaking him yet he didn’t react consciously or unconsciously. His eye showed how he was dead to the world. Fear began to well up in her stomach. “Ekaw pu.” She tried commanding him. An aura of magic enveloped him, still he couldn’t wake. 

“Oh no…” there was little she could do if magic had no effect. Potion could be brewed but that thing on his chest his chest could very throw the potion dangerously balance, killing him in any number of ways. 

She could run a diagnostic spell but that would require them to be in her apartment 

o0o0o0o0o 

Harry stepped out from under the cool spray of the shower, water dripped from scarred body. He wore them proudly as each one taught him a lesson he had either forgotten or had yet to learn. They were trophies from his adventure across the globe. He was particularly proud of a long jagged scar that ran down his right arm where the basilisk had bit him. Not that it was an experience that he care to repeat again, Most of it was rather painful and he couldn’t remember anything that happened after he drove a sword through beast’s skull, but it did lead him to Carolyn.

According to the villagers she had dragged him and the boy and tended to him for the better part of a week. He awoke, she stayed, weeks turned to month and one thing led to another and they fell in love. Of course she was the one who proposed in the end, it was almost comical when she confronted him with the pregnancy. She would’ve kicked his arse up and down the mountain if it hadn’t been bad for the baby. Carolyn Wu-san was truly a wonder.

And so was their daughter.

Harry dried himself off quickly and dressed in a comfortable pair of pants and a clean, pressed shirt. He exited the bathroom and made his way through his brightly lighted home. He had yet to come up with a name for the house as tradition dictated. Each new house acquired by a family had to be named by the eighth year of its inhabitance as a way to link up the family wards, by his estimate Harry had another full year before he had have to give it a name. He was caught between a number infinite number of possibilities. 

It could be named Hedwig after his watchful companion. It would be fitting to name it after her… guardian of a lost orphan who rose to head of the Most Ancient and Noble house Black, or he could name some play on words like Sirius’ ancestors did Grimmauld place. He didn’t want to choose… not yet at least… he’d probably let Cassandra decide as an extra birthday gift. She was going to inherit it when he passed. 

The kitchen was as simple as they came, a small wooden island surrounded by cupboards, a fridge, a simple cast iron stove, and a large window that allowed him a view of the beach. Harry smiled as he watched two figures move with almost perfect synchronization, Carolyn with shift her stance and Cassandra did her best to mirror. Carolyn dressed in beautiful shades of green while Cassandra dressed in her black and yellow training clothes. 

They had been a gift from Sirius, Harry suspected it was because Cassandra’s baby blanket. That when she was curled up in it made her look like chubby bee. He chuckled, but his joy was short lived. The memory was hazy and it perturbed him. It was surely a bad omen to have ones memory going when he was barely twenty-seven. 

He shrugged it off and began digging through the pantry for the necessary materials for a health wholesome breakfast. Eggs, sausage, green peppers, white onion, pepperjack cheese, potato, and a pinch of salt would be diced up and thrown onto the frying pan to make a nice scramble. He pulled out a bottle of orange juice and set on the counter. He searched and he searched for that a single blasted onion for early five minutes when he finally grew tired of doing things the muggle way and pulled out his wand from his sleeve.

“Accio Onion.” He enunciated clearly and with no small amount of exasperation. Half an onion flew out of the pantry and landed in his open hand. A quick soak under the faucet revealed nothing extraordinary. Like a conductor in an orchestra, Harry began waving his wand. A small fire erupted on the nearby stove that was nearly squashed by a heavy cast iron pan. A small piece of butter flew from across the kitchen and landed on the heated pan. The pan tilted to a somber little tune that had wormed its way into his head. It sounded like “Lacrimosa dies Illae” mixed with a bit of ‘O Children’ two vastly different songs but they seemed to fit perfectly in his head.

Meanwhile, a silver knife danced through the onion and moved onto the green peppers. Another twirl of his wand had a different knife sink itself into a nearby apple, carving into thin slices before carrying them onto a clean plate. Harry grabbed the handle of a short serrated knife and began to tear into the ham. He liked to do some of the work manually, a personal touch here and there, a pinch of pepper, and a dash of salt. 

It was nice. A bit of mundane usefulness in his rather turbulent world. 

He wasn’t saying anything against the life of an adventurer. He loved it, if he hadn’t wandered through Asia when he did he wouldn’t have met Carolyn and if he hadn’t met Carolyn they wouldn’t have Cass. 

His attention was drawn away from the task at hand when a some one hit the wall with enough force to shake some disgruntled portraits. A quick glance through the widow revealed a determined Cassandra jumping of the wall of the house to deliver a vertical kick onto the stone faced Carolyn. She snatched Cassie’s leg and drove the small girl into the white sand. Cassandra wasted no time getting away from her mother choosing to duck away in the nearby sea water. 

“Not the wisest move, sweetheart.” Harry murmured to himself. Carolyn was without a doubt the deadliest woman Harry had ever met and without a doubt would ever meet. She was a master several forms of martial arts and could kill just about anyone with her bare hands. Cassandra was young and with youth came inexperience, she was trying to out maneuver a superior opponent but had put herself in a disadvantage in the process. The water while obscuring Carolyn’s field of vision would weigh Cassandra down. He had warned her about it, wizards loved using conductors and salt water was typically a game changer. It let electricity flow like no ones busyness, a stunner was particularly effective but with sea water it could be devastating. “Don’t get cocky little bird.”

Thankfully Carolyn wasn’t a witch or she would be feeling her mother’s disapproval. As it was Carolyn stood ready on the dry sand. Two lumps of wet sand were thrown from beneath the waves. The green clad warrior swatted them aside with ease and blocked the small fist with her right leg. With one swift motion she pulled Cassandra from the water before the poor dear could swim away. Cassandra tried to wiggle out of her shirt, but her attempt at escape were quelled with a stern shout that Harry heard from the window.

Carolyn had been training their daughter for the better part of three years and Cassandra had yet to beat her. Which wasn’t surprising the girl was seven, she didn’t have the body yet nor the skill. When Harry had met her in Tibet she had already become the deadliest woman in the world. He never pried as to why she, though he did wonder… how could he not? He could still see the great uncontrollable fire he had seen when he’d first laid eyes on her. Fire like that had been born from rage, pure rage fueled by pain and unconquerable will. 

His attention drifted back to the dance that had erupted around his kitchen. Somehow the eggs where had already been cracked and were being scrambled. With a twirl of his wand the eggs were spilled into the heated pan, and with a satisfied sizzle Harry looked around for the cheese, nothing tied together a scramble like cheese. There was another crash followed by loud coughing and a woman’s laugh. Harry had half a mind to investigate the origins of the clatter and the other half on his daughter’s meal. A pair of light footfalls approached him from behind. 

Sirius stepped in the kitchen in his usual ratty vest and jacket. The man barely spent any money in his appearance. And why would he? Sirius loved himself the way he was and if it meant that it drove his mother’s portrait up the wall she’d been so gently hanged on he would do it every day. His skin was pale but not unhealthily so meaning he was finally getting out more. Since he and James had fallen out of favor with each other over bringing Harry into the magical world, he had become a rather eccentric recluse.

“This way love.” Sirius called out before turning back to Harry. The man had gleam in his eyes, he pulled Harry into a big hug, one Harry reciprocated almost immediately, and tried lifting him like he used to do when Harry had been a child. Keyword being tried. Harry had grown since the old dogfather had been able to that and Sirius was getting old in his own right. Sirius let go of Harry clasped his shoulders smiling. For some reason Harry could feel tears slipping down his face even though he was sure he had been smiling. “You’ve gotten old, pup.” 

“Look who’s talking.” Harry laughed. “Is that grey I see Padfoot?” 

“Oh you mean the high lights?” Sirius asked, his grin threatening to split his face open. He touched his long hair as if trying to accentuate it. “I hear there all the rage in muggle circles.”

A new voice interrupted them. “Yes, for young girls between the ages of ten and twenty.” Harry looked over Sirius’ blushing face to spot former DMLE director Amelia Bones. Her sharp features were contrasted by the loving smile on her lips. Her navy blue studied Harry for but a moment before focusing on Sirius. “Are you going to introduce me?”

“Yes, right…” Sirius attempted to quickly regain his composure. “Harry this is Amelia.” She slightly nodded her acknowledgement, the polite thing to do in pureblood custom. “Amelia this is Harry. Lord Black as it were.” Harry bowed. She was Madam Bones after all. She was one of the few people in the government that had actually believed him about the whole resurrection of the Dark Lord incident. Harry noted she was dressed for a tropical outing.

“It’s an honor to finally meet the woman who’s put leash on Sirius. The life of a bachelor was surely driving him mad.” Harry’s attempt at a joke earned him a mock pout from Sirius and a genuine smile from Amelia. Harry extended his right, which she took with her own. “A promise ring, Madam Bones?” 

“Engagement actually, Lord Black .”

“Sirius…?” He marveled at the ring on her finger. 

“Yes, Harry?”

“You could have introduced me sooner.” Harry admonished.

“You live in the Caribbean, Harry!” He tried to excuse. “Floo powder is expensive?” he tried again. “You could have making babies for all I knew!

“When has that ever stopped you?”

“When your-“ At that exact moment Carolyn decided to make her presence known. Her black hair was in a braid and was covered in sweat.

“When his what?” Sirius stopped whatever and immediately started babbling. 

“-beautiful, gracious and most forgiving wife told me that it would be in my best interest not to walk in when there’s a possibility of private time?”

Cassandra barreled in tracking sand all over the kitchen, her green eyes shining with untold delight as she smashed in head first into her favorite relatives stomach. “Granpaw.” Oh, yes. Harry had told Cassandra of Sirius’ animagus and she came up with the nickname all on her own. She made her old man proud. 

“Cassie!” Carolyn scolded. “Bath time now.” Cassandra stuck her tongue out before hugging Sirius’ leg. 

“Go take a bath little pup, we’ll play later.” He assured her. He acknowledged Carolyn with a nod but that was it. They hadn’t gotten along since their first encounter and Harry had given up on trying to make them do so. 

“Carolyn, this is-“

“Amelia Bones, I know.” She bowed at the older woman. “ Her strategies helped stave off Voldemort’s advance. A formidable warrior as far as I have read.” Coming from Carolyn that was high praise. “If you would excuse us someone played far too long in the sand.” Carolyn lifted the reluctant into her arms and left the kitchen 

“So Amelia what does one do after the DMLE?” Harry decided to ask. The eggs were nearly done. “In fact if you would be so kind as to set the table with Sirius I would be eternally grateful.”

“Of course.”

And so the morning went. Amelia and Harry discussing rather mundane things while Sirius started talking about what brooms he would gift Cassandra for her birthday. Carolyn talked strategy when she arrived and quickly bonded with Sirius’s fiancé. Harry twirled his fork slowly as he couldn’t shake this feeling that something was extremely wrong.

o0o0o0o0o

Zatanna let out a breath she didn’t know that she had been holding. The diagnostic spell had run its course and as far as she could tell Harry was fine… physically. The thing on his chest had at attached itself to the pleasure centers in his brain, forcing him to dream and by the amount of dopamine that was being released it was a very good dream. The thing by basic definition was a parasite instead of sunlight it craved nutrient in the body but not in a dangerous level it wanted its host alive and healthy. 

It was made from magic so magic had no effect on it. The stupid plant was resilient as they came she needed a bit of outside help. She wasn’t sure Bruce would help after the Azrael incident or he would in exchange for the Suit. Harry wouldn’t allow that. She could reach out to Dick but he had his hands full in Bludhaven. Barbara could help she was usually calling to complain about the lack of action since forming the Birds of Prey. With her mind they could surely remove the damned plant from Harry’s chest.

She hoped.

o0o0o0o0o


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI: For those who wake (Part 2)

A/ N: There is a mention of rape in this chapter. Nothing too graphic, mind you, but still… it’s a rather touchy subject. I had this scripted when I started this project and I refuse to change it.

It’s practically the reason why Harry is how he is in this story. 

You have been forewarned.

o0o0o0o0o

“Memory’s so treacherous. One moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights with poignant childhood aromas, the flashing neon of puberty, all that sentimental candyfloss… The next, it leads you somewhere to you don’t want to go, somewhere dark and cold filled with damp ambiguous shapes of things you’d hoped were forgotten.” 

\- The Joker.

o0o0o0o0o

Barbara Gordon was tired. In the last seventy-two hours she had fought a mind controlled Bruce Wayne, stopped a maniacal former investigative reporter turned hitman from killing Bruce, and gained some brownie points with Detective McKenna. Oh, and of course her mother was trying to inject herself back into her life through her roommate, Alysia Yeoh. Not to mention Bruce was especially edgy since that DEO agent had shown up and disappeared in less than a day. 

‘Why now?’ She asked herself. Barbara Kean had just up and disappeared with her psychotic brother one day and neither her nor her father had seen or heard from until yesterday. The timing just felt so off. 

Maybe it had something to do with the Joker being killed or that Harley had been transferred out of state, she couldn’t know because her mother refused too talk about it. Ivy had offered her pheromones in an effort to find out her identity but she was too clever for that little trick. It was kind of sand when your closest friend on the team used try to kill every other day of the week. 

And that brought her to her current predicament. Black Canary had insisted that Batgirl and Ivy should stay back while she, Katana and Starling completed some type of mission. While she was grateful for the opportunity to rest her sore muscles it brought a sort of awkwardness when she attempted simple conversation with what was basically a humanoid Orchid. The silence that answered her while Ivy tended to her plants left her at the mercy of her thoughts. She sat staring at the cracked warehouse ceiling staring at the cloudy Gotham sky.

“Did you know ACE Chemicals could be the staging ground for one of the worst chemical disasters that humanity could unleash on the planet?” Ivy said as a few roses wrapped themselves around her gloved hand. “Their security is laughable at best.”

It took her a moment to register what had been said. “What?”

“We could have one of the greatest, if not the greatest, ecological disaster since humans have spread across the planet.” Ivy tried clarifying. “If Crane or the Joker ever decided to weaponize the factory, the resulting chemical clouds would kill all flora on the east coast.”

Barbara made a note to alert Bruce of the security risk. “It wouldn’t come to that.” She was certain that if she failed someone would stop them be it Bruce, Dick, Tim, or Damian. one of them would stop them. 

“Who would stop them? Batman and his little birds cant be everywhere at once and neither can we.” The pant retreated into its pot just as Ivy turned to look at her. “We can of course prevent this; more guards and constant surveillance are a must… “

“Why are you telling me this?” Barbara interrupted. ‘Is someone planning something?’ She asked herself. 

The former villainess simply shrugged in reply. “There are a few entities in Gotham with the brains, the resources, and the a complete disregard for nature to plan and execute the plan.” Ivy was always passionate about the conservation of nature and would happily eliminate anyone she deemed a threat. “Simon Stagg, Maxie Zeus, and Crane to name a few.” She paused and touched her chin. “Well maybe not Crane.” 

That caught Barbara’s attention. “Why not Scarecrow?” 

Ivy’s face split into a rather dark grin. She leaned into Barbara’s personal space but kept enough distance to avoid making the little bat nervous. “Didn’t Batman tell you? The D.E.O. snatched Crane from right out of under him”

“When did this happen?”

“Less than a week ago.” So it happened after Bruce’s run in with the agent. That could explain his more agitated behavior. She hadn’t been Batgirl when Azrael had first appeared. At first people of Gotham called him the heir to the Batman, but when whole families were slaughtered in their homes… the tone changed. It didn’t take long for the D.E.O. to appear and ferret out the perpetrator. By the time the investigation was completed Azrael had killed several agents, a so called agent Black, first name redacted, stabbed Azrael with his own sword. She heard from Dick that Bruce wasn’t Happy for a long time.

“Are you going to pick up your phone?” Ivy asked pulling her out of her thoughts.

Barbara pulled out her phone and pressed it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Batgirl. I need you in New York.” Zantanan voice echoed from her communicator. “My apartment, don’t tell Bruce.” With that the line went dead

Barbara dropped from her perch and made her way to the nearest exit. Ivy simply watched Barbara with a blank expression on her face. ”Where are you going?” She asked as Barbara reached a rusted metal door. 

“Out.” Was the only answer she would be willing to give. Zatanna and Ivy had a very violent history, from what she heard from Bruce Ivy tortured Zatanna. Why? No one knew except for the two women. 

“Out where?” She didn’t answer. The door creeked open and shut with so loudly she could claim she hadn’t heard the former villainess’s question. It wouldn’t take her long to reach Zee’s apartment.

o0o0o0o0o

The sun was finally setting on the small island and Sirius had left the small cottage with Amelia. Harry approved of the union, Amelia was certainly a good match for the ever mischievous Sirius. Personally he wondered how the two initially met and what force convinced them to get together after their initial clash. Maybe James played a roll in it, as an olive branch if nothing else. 

James had become a Hogwarts professor after Harry the institution to travel the world and never looked back. For obvious reasons Harry didn’t hold the Potters in high esteem, but it was James that had been a spectacular thorn in his side. They just couldn’t seem to get along, their philosophies were too contrasting, Harry believed that having a known spy as a teacher had been a terrible idea while James wanted the spy where he could see it. Harry had argued that even if Severus didn’t want to give information to Voldemort he had too in an effort to maintain his cover, this included those individuals that associated with certain students. James, with his years of experience, had argued that if Snape didn’t report the information his value as a spy would decrease exponentially. Harry feared that cost was too high and the reward nowhere near justifiable.

The Order sided with his father… and Harry, to his immense sadness was proven right on May second nineteen ninety-eight when Bellatrix attempted to execute Tracy Davis. Harry found he couldn’t forgive after that particular event. Charles had, in an unprecedented use of his brain, agreed with him on that point, which was the basis for their relative civility. 

Carolyn leaned on the bedroom doorframe and watched Harry dress for the evening. An invitation had arrived a week earlier a celebration of one of the most Hallowed day of the year, that one time a year where the worlds lined up perfectly. For centuries it was tradition for witches and wizards to gathered together to guard the gates against invasion. With the formation of the ICW in sixteen forty-eight this practice was discontinued when specially trained wizards, now known as Aurors, were assigned to this task. This practice was immediately adopted by the Scotts and trickled down to Great Britain in seventeen thirty-four. In modern day, wizards got together to spend time with friends. 

“Are you sure you can’t come?” Harry asked her.

“There are whispers, my beloved.” She pulled a long sword from the closet. “Something is stirring, can feel it.” Harry finished buttoning a fresh shirt and quickly wrapped his arms around his retreating wife.

“Then I’ll ask, Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“I am not certain that would be the wisest of ideas, my beloved. If you were to leave our daughter would be an easy target.” 

“Not if we leave her with Daph.” He said straightening his beige coat. “The wards around the manor are nearly impregnable and if they do manage to get in Daphne is more than capable of handling anything that might come crashing in.” 

“It’s not enough.” She closed the door and began to undress. 

“It may never be.” He said staring at her perfectly muscled back. From the closet she drew an all too familiar. Harry played with a white cotton mask with shifting black blots while he contemplated his next action. “I’ll be back in an hour.” Harry rested his hands on his wife’s bare shoulders. Slowly he turned her around until he could stare into those beautiful green eyes. “Promise you’ll wait for me?” There was something nagging in the far reaches of his brain urging him to follow her, to hold her close against the approaching storm.

“Harry…”

“Just promise me, love?”

“I promise.”

“Good.” He lifted her chin up and stole a quick kiss. Harry could not think of anything more perfect than his wife’s eyes in that moment. Of course, like all good things the moment had to come to an end. His tiny, black haired terror of a daughter zoomed in in dressed for her Aunt’s Halloween party. Cassandra was clad in a store bought Power Ranger costume, it sort of resembled a pterodactyl… 

If he squinted.

Carolyn smiled at her and crouched to look into her eyes. “Will you be a good girl for your father?”

“Yes.”

“And for your aunt Tracey?” Harry added playfully.

“Yes.”

“How about Daphne?”

“Maybe.” 

Harry smiled, pulling them both into his arms. 

Oh, how he loved them both. He was happy beyond belief.

Then something changed.

For an instant Harry felt the cold air of the mountain whisper in his ear and the smell of smoke and blood assault his senses. He swore he saw a figure dressed in white standing in the distance. A white half mask covered his face while his hood covered the rest. Harry’s green eyes locked with the figures cold blue ones. Harry was so absorbed in the figure that he failed to notice the tall, slender man clad in a black robes and wild hair as dark as the cosmos. The chalk white hands rested on Harry’s shoulders

Harry could feel the world start peel away as he was dragged away into rabid blurs that had become his memory. He remembered screaming, watching the smoke rise in the distance as he returned with water from the river. He remembered the fear he felt as he ran into the village only to see the corpses of parents lined up in the streets, the sound of many children’s wails filled the air. As much as his sense if duty wanted to ensure the safety of the children his desperation to see his beloved was much greater.

He remembered walking into the house they had built together the signs of battle clear were clear in his apartment, he remembered the worry that etched into his being as he cried out his beloved Carolyn’s name and received no answer. He remembered dodging the sword of a boy no older than fifteen, the surge of magic that blasted from the tip of his wand and sliced the boy in half. He ran into the room that he’d shared with the woman of his dreams. What he saw in that room… shook him to the very core.

Carolyn was lying on the bed, her face pressed against the pillow half naked. Bruises marred her body from her face to her calves. Her clothes were ripped, she was barely breathing. A shift in the wind saved his life once more as he twisted out of the way of a child wilding a dagger. His remorse was gone in an instant, like with those children that had followed Voldemort harry only saw a monster and he dealt with him. When he turned around he only caught a glimpse of the man in white. His unmasked face, his cold blue, eyes and how he Carolyn’s body to his.

A singular emotion consumed him.

Rage.

There was a certain type of beauty to rage, its purity enticed many a people and with it they created masterpieces of blood and glory, it drove the masses to revolution, and forced children to become heroes. But rage tainted by hatred was an ugly thing, it drove men to seek revenge, without care of cost, it drove people into ancient scriptures and forbidden tomes in hopes of accomplishing whatever perceived justice they wanted to unleash upon world., Harry was trapped in the latter. He pointed his wand and tried to blast the man out of existence, but just as the spell left his wand….

The world shattered before him.

o0o0o0o0o

Zatanna had tried every spell she knew to remove it, short of destroying the plant holding Harry hostage. For all intents and purposes it should not exist, it violated so may laws of magic. It was both alive and dead, a frail copy of something much more powerful. It was composed of some of the darkest magic she had ever felt but that wasn’t all It was feeding off of Harry’s core, slowly draining him of his magic.

It would kill him soon enough.

She read every tome with every mismatched being who slightly resembled the parasite. Manticores, wraiths, banshees, and things she dared not utter neither in her mind nor aloud. Nothing seemed to affect the blasted thing either because of its nature or because it what it was composed of, it drank the power of it host.

Shaking her head she stepped away from Harry’s frozen body. She just knew Batgirl would know what had to be done, the girl was a genius after all. Her body needed rest after the hectic few day’s she’d been threw. “Why cant people visit just share in my company?” she muttered to herself. “Might as well get something to eat.” She exited the room, not noticing the slight twitch in Harry’s gloved hands. 

Harry suddenly buckled against the leather restraints. He struggled until the straps gave way to the suit’s strength and snapped. His hands now free dug into the squealing creature and without conscious thought ripped away at its body. Black petals scattered on the floor quicker as Harry fought regain consciousness. 

To Harry it felt like his mind was being ripped apart. Through one eye, Harry saw the plain room in Zatanna’s apartment and knew it was truth. Memories that fit perfectly in place were zealously protected by his mental barriers. This made the scars on his face, both the lightning bolt and Greybacks gift, burn like hell,.

The other eye, showed his wife asking if he needed a doctor and his daughter crying for her father. Part of him wanted to believe in the dream, to comfort Cassandra and promise her the world. He couldn’t bare to see her cry, couldn’t bare to know that those tears were for his worthless soul. 

His heart hurt burned as he tried to find the words that would ease the girl’s pain. The more he ripped the more Carolyn and Cassandra faded and the reality flooded in. “I.” He found his voice but still he struggled with coherency. “I…” A particularly painful scream ripped out of his throat, tears blurring both worlds. Zantanna ran into the room. Her lips moved but he couldn’t hear a word she said. 

He felt Cassandra press against him. “I’m scared.” 

“I lo-“ The dream world was fading in a cacophony of sound. “Love youuu booth.” He finally managed but it was too late. 

The parasite fell limply on the floor its tentacles and petals disintegrated into nothingness. 

Just like that it was over. He could hear Zatanna asking something but it simply failed to register. He sat there motionless clearly in shock while Zatanna fussed over him. Out of the corner of his eyes he spotted a woman in a black and yellow bat suit and for moment he confused her for Cassandra, that was until he spotted her long flowing red hair.

“Are you alright?” She asked. 

Harry looked into Zatanna’s eyes and answered truthfully. 

“No.”

o0o0o0o0o

A/N: Sorry if this feels rushed but I’m pretty happy with it. The thing is that the original chapter six was lost and I had to rewrite it. Originally you guys were going to meet Miranda Blake (OC… technically.) in this chapter but I felt like it was too much.   
I honestly don’t want to hear about Batgirl basically just making a cameo, lets face it, sometimes heroes arrive too late. 

Voting ends next chapter, So please feel free to vote and I will be eternally grateful for any and all reviews. 

For all you Avatar: the Last Airbender fans, be sure to check out Blue Horizon. It’s a crossosover with the Legend of Korra. It’s a lot less angsty than the summery makes it sound… Summeries are possibly the hardest part of stories. 

Happy trails until we meet again.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII: What the heart wants…

“When you have lived as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love..”

-Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

o0o0o0o0o

Harry was experiencing growing familiarity with numbness.

It comforted him when tragedy and fated danced around his life like an almost constant companion. He had first experienced in the Department of Mysteries when Sirius had met his untimely demise. It had dulled the impact of James’s fist and had shielded Harry from his biological father’s scathing remarks. Yet he knew that it drove him into the arms of the Old Man for the next two years. 

Tragedy struck nearly two years later, this time killing his closest friend and once more with Carolyn when the wounds of Tracey’s passing had closed. 

Again numbness comforted him and would continue to comfort until rage bubbled to the surface and his thirst for revenge demanded to be sated.

It was a foreign feeling being comforted by another person. Zatanna had charged herself with his immediate wellbeing while Batgirl tried to discern the parasite’s nature. Still he had to admit being tended to by two beautiful women in a living room was rather pleasant.

The Bat’s protégé passed some sort of scanner across his face and for the seventeenth time it beep in the same tone indicating it had failed scan him. The Bat smacked the side of the machine in frustration. It was clear to Harry that the magical field that surrounded him was interfering with the machine but Harry couldn’t be bothered explaining this to the masked woman, he couldn’t be read because he would not allow it. 

Sadly, he didn’t have to. Zatanna elbowed Harry’s arm and cleared her throat. “Drop the field, Harry.” She didn’t have to say anything else as the ‘or I’ll drop it for you’ was clearly implied. He looked at her out of the corner of his right eye and obliged. “Try it again.” 

Once more, Batgirl scanned Harry’s head but this time there was no ringing. This time scanner continued its work unimpeded. “There are abnormally high levels of dopamine flowing through your system…” She clicked on a button and ran the scanner around the holes in his neck and over his chest. She stayed quiet while she studied the device, her face not giving away anything but really Harry was surprised her face could do anything besides scowl after having the Batman as a mentor. “Good news, your not dying…” She paused. “anymore.” 

Harry tried to give her his most convincing smile. “Well that’s always a plus. Who would have thought getting ambushed by roses with tentacles would grant me immortality.” He turned to Zatanna. “Don’t tell John, Zee, I don’t think his heart could take.” He tried to joke.

Unsurprisingly, Zatanna found little humor in last nights events and let him know with a withering glare. Harry had seen worse from Granger, but wisely kept his mouth shut. “What’s the bad news?” He could sense the irritation in her tone.

“I can’t find any traces of foreign matter in his wound or on the armor… well nothing that would lead us to any answers.”

“In other words, we have the name of a megalomaniacal jackass, with delusions of grandeur, that’s running around unattended with a young magical of unknown origin as a hostage with an unknown agenda who’s has creatures not affected by standard spells.” He took a breath. “Now we know that we have no way to track him. I wouldn’t exactly say we have no new answers.” There was a point to his exposition, the girl needed to learn that the absence of evidence spoke just as loudly as its presence. “He also ranted about someone hunting him. Which means besides us there are others aware of him.”

“What are we going to do then? Wait until he attacks?” Batgirl asked. “Either we get to him before he does something-“

“He won’t try anything soon.” Harry interrupted. “He’s looking for something he cant afford another blunder and bring more attention to himself than he already has.” He shouldn’t have worn the bloody suit. It made him too damn impulsive, a controlled Incendio would have scorched the plants without allowing them to overwhelm him. So many ways he could have caught him and like a ranked amateur Harry had run in swords blazing. “He won’t show himself until he has what he’s after.” 

Maybe it was the numbness that allowed him to study his actions so clearly or the fact that he had repeated the same mistake that he’d done in Gotham was starting mix together. Hadn’t he heard that repetition was a sign of insanity? “Wait and prepare, it’s the only thing that can be done.” 

“I’m sorry, but we can’t take the risk that you’re wrong.” Batgirl objected, she tucked the scanner into her yellow belt. “He’s too dangerous to be left alone. Zantanna told me about the bodies, he could be doing it again, right now.” Her argument while solid was flawed.

“If you go hunting for him like you do Gotham’s thugs, you’ll find yourself at a great disadvantage.” Harry tried to reason. Though he had to admit “He’s smart, he’s dangerous, and above all else, he has magic. You’ll engage him not knowing what he is capable of.”

“People will die!”

“Enough.” Zatanna interjected, Batgirl shut her mouth but kept her gaze on the DEO agent. “Batgirl, Harry does have a point. We tracked him down the first because we were lucky. We have no idea where he is or what he’s planning, preparing ourselves is the best course of action.” She pushed Harry to lie down on the couch. “Harry, Batgirl also has a point. We’ll need Batman’s help tracking down information on Dee but at least we will be doing something.” 

“You’ll have to do it without me.” He coughed, resting his head on a soft pillow. 

“And why would that be?” Zantanna asked.

“It’s the first, right?” At the witch’s nod Harry pulled out his wand and summoned his satchel. The brown bag flew into his hand and with a resounding thud it smacked into his open palm. Harry opened the satchel and seeing the damaged cross on the suit stuffed it down further into the bag, he didn’t need Batgirl getting frisky, until his hands tangled with a silver watch. Pulling it out, he studied the time before dropping it into the bag once more “I have till mid day.” Which was about seven hours away, which meant that he could take a diluted vial of dreamless sleep potion and still wake up on time. “You won’t need me, Zee.”

“Whether I need you or not isn’t the question, Harry.” Zatanna stated. “Just keep in mind, I have ears everywhere and if I hear you died… I’ll summon your ghost and keep it in a jar.” There was little doubt in Harry’s mind that Zatanna was serious, the only problem she would encounter would be an irate Slytherin queen who would fight her for the honor of keeping his spirit jarred.

“You’re worse than Daphne.” 

“I am certainly proud that you think so highly of me.” She said sarcastically. She lifted herself off the bed and gently Batgirl into her room obviously to talk about all the things the Justice League didn’t want him to hear. 

Harry kept his eyes open studying the positioning of the Asiatic décor. Clearly she was trying to help the flow of magic in her house by using such an ancient art. Harry had to admit that it had a few very relaxing qualities to it, certainly enough to drive him to sleep. 

o0o0o0o0o

Harry found himself standing in his dress robes in an all too familiar Hall decorated for the infamous Yule Ball. The Weird Sisters, who Harry found to be hairier than even Hagrid, were preforming while the faceless mass of wizards and witches danced around the stage.

Harry felt a sharp tug almost instantly he was assaulted by a beautiful floral scent. He turned to see stunning amber eyes looking at him expectantly. “Come on. Harry.” Tracey said, dragging her reluctant friend back onto the dance floor for another round. Tracey was in a beautiful midnight blue dress. Harry had asked her after being informed by Daphne about the rather important Ball that no one thought of mentioning the second Hogwarts champion. 

Still Harry was enjoying himself far too much to consider how tiered he was after spending the day trying to figure out the blasted clue. 

‘Your hands are shaking baby,  
You ain’t been sleeping lately,’ 

“Where’s Daphne?” Harry shouted over the roar of the crowds. They had promised the pureblood they would hang around her incase the Bulgarians tried to pull something. She expected retaliation after denying one of their invitations to the ball.

“Guarding our table.” She answered pressing herself to him. ”I think she’s mad that she has to dance with Zabini.”

Harry had never understood Daphne’s need to expand her social web. It was all fake smiles and complicated plots with a touch of cliché spy games that had Tracey and him delivering messages to the different factions of their house. She had made a deal with Zabini, if she allowed him the honor of escorting her to the Yule Ball he would give the family some tome or another.

All Harry knew was if Zabini didn’t treat Daphne right he would be in for a world of hurt, that couldn’t be linked to him. 

The music suddenly changed as a few sirens stepped onto the stage, Harry would later learn they were a gift from Drumstrang, and began to sing a beautiful melody. 

Touch.  
I remember touch  
Pictures came with touch  
A painter in my mind  
Tell me what you see.’

They danced and they swayed together, bound by their arms and something greater. The music faded out until Harry could only hear the beat of Tracey’s heart.

‘A tourist in a dream  
A visitor it seems  
A half forgotten song  
Where do I belong?’

Slowly but surely their lips drifted closer.

‘Tell me what you see  
I need something more!’  
Amber eyes locked with green, each reflecting the emotions of the other.

‘Kiss!’ The sirens sang and they did. 

It felt like he was witnessing the power of a great storm, the lightning coursing through his heart and the winds threatening to consume, yet he could not make himself pull away as the awe he had for her overtook him. 

‘Suddenly alive  
Happiness arrived   
Hunger like a storm!  
How do I begin?”

Tracey was the first to pull back with a goofy smile that seemed to fit perfectly on her face. With a bout of strength Harry did not know she possessed she began to twirl him.

‘A room within a room  
A door behind a door  
Touch, where do you lead?  
I need something more!  
Tell me what you see.  
I need something more.’ 

So they danced, losing themselves with the music until the rest of the students no longer existed. They moved with the flurry of the trumpets, the dancing fingers of the piano, with the energy in the room. 

Until the violins slowed and their hearts did the same.

‘If love is the answer, hold on.’ He could hear Tracey say. Harry caressed her cheek. Once more his dreams had gone off script, but for the life of him he couldn’t bring himself to be angry. What happiness could dreams bring him? They were just as real as the waking world but infinitely more temporary. 

All he could do was smile as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. “Touch, sweet touch.” He murmured. “You’ve given me too much to feel.” He pulled her to his chest as he felt her heart stilled. No longer were they in the great hall, no longer were they protected by the illusion of peace, no longer did those amber eyes hold the beautiful life that had captivated him so. “You’ve almost convinced me I’m real.”

He collapsed to his knees haunted by the dark dreary dungeons of Hogwarts. He could feel the Old Man rest his old callused hand on his shoulder, his black eyes held sympathy for his student. “Mourn her after thou hast avenged her. Mourn her but allow her to become your strength. Do not allow them to take from others what they have taken from you!” Harry stood placing Tracey against a nearby wall and nodded. The Old Man handed Harry his wand and stood back. ” Do not disappoint me.”

Harry looked at the frail skinny man that his mentor portrayed himself and nodded. “Remember what I have taught you: Do not pick up a sword against a man unless you mean to put him down with it. Your wand is no exception.” Harry nodded once more and left the room..

o0o0o0o0o

Harry awoke feeling both rested and sad. The numbness had given way but rage still hid from him. Still he felt that familiar hunger ripple through his being ready to return to the hunt. The Old Man had taught him well, if the dream meant anything it meant that he was still watching Harry. 

People like him never stopped watching those they taught.

Harry would strive not be another student that would disappoint. 

o0o0o0o0o

A/N: A filler chapter if there ever was one. It just came to me sorry if this is creating more needles drama but I felt Harry needed it… sort of like when Batman walked into the depth of the Bat cave in the Dark Knight returns to find his motivation once more.

Again short, sadly it felt right. This chapter was completely inspire by the song Touch by Daft Punk, and considering O children is fro 2004 musical chronology matter not in Harry Potter… for obscure songs at least.

Another hint as to the identity of the Old Man. Who could it be? Let me just say… he is a DC character. But that’s as much info I’m giving you.

Well the votes are in and I’m honestly surprised.

Wonder Woman: 34

Harley Quinn: 34

Power Girl: 28

Poison Ivy: 8

Huntress: 5  
Faora: 3

Lady Shiva: 5

The fun thing about ties is that it adds unpredictability to the story.

Now here are my assessments of both characters in relation to Harry:

Harleen Quinzel is a victim of a monster, she was tortured to the point that her original personality has been pushed into a miniscule box in an effort to protect herself. So in her heart of heart’s she’s a decent person trapped by toxic love she had for the Joker until the events that landed her in Belle Reve. Their separation is what creates the mixture of both personalities who becomes the charismatic and endearing anti-hero we see in Suicide Squad and Harley Quinn comics. 

In the end she just wants to be loved, can you blame her?

But will her wish to do some good trump the evil she has done in the name of the crown price of crime be enough to woo our tragic heroes love?

We’ll see.

Diana is a rather complicated character. She doesn’t need anyone even though others need of her. She’s such a powerful character that it makes her feel alone in the world of man. Like Harry she is compelled to save others , yet the emotions that compel them are very different. Diana is driven to action because of love, while Harry is compelled by his need for vengeance, which he confuses for retribution. Her loyalty to her friends is undoubtable yet so is Harry’s to the DEO, these two factions are often times at odds.

There are many parallels that I see between Harry and Diana they have the potential to either drive them together or rip them apart

That’s all for now

Happy trails,   
Until we meet again.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII: The Black Mirror (part one)

“Evil is unspectacular and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our own table.”

-W. H, Auden 

o0o0o0o0o

Harry limped out of her apartment. Harry clutched an old wooden cane with an ivory grip lie his life depended on it, Zatanna had mentioned that it had belonged to her grandfather. It was bit too long for him to walk around comfortably but it just seemed utterly disrespectful to use magic on it. 

Besides the limp Harry had left Zatanna’s apartment with little trouble. A quick hug goodbye and a promise to at least consider siting this mission out was enough for the older Sorceress to allow him to leave. 

‘Not much older.’ He thought semi frantically. ‘In fact let it be forgotten that I, Harry, Lord Black, have ever used the word old to describe Zatanna.’ 

She had called a taxi for to make his day easier. The cabbie was a rather large man with a clean shave and a nice enough smile, his eyes were tired though as if the only thing keeping him awake was the cold coffee in his cup holder. The radio chatted on indistinguishably as Harry entered. The inside of the cab smelled of old coffee and air freshener and the seats were worn.

Harry was quick to make himself comfortable in the cab’s rear seat. “Hotel Avalon.” He ordered.

“You got it.”

For all the horror Harry had witnessed since arriving in New York he had to admit that the day was rather nice. The sun was high and there were no clouds. Now if only his muscles didn’t sting he could at least enjoy the cities beautiful scenery without wanting to hex the muggle taxi driver every time the car accelerated. 

Briefly he wondered how long it would take to arrive to the hotel, before forcing his mind to recall everything he knew about the Inquisitor. True they had never met but word spread quickly between agents. She had joined the department about a year after he did. She had gained the nickname Inquisitor after a brush with the League of Shadows, she had pried the location of their next attack. From what he’d heard the two assassins were still being held in the Pit’s medical ward, catatonic if the rumors were to be believed. 

Like him, she was what some in the department called Nomads, sent from one branch to another depending where they were needed most. Though traffic had slowed in the past year and so nomads had started to become more stationary. 

Blake was well known for her ferocity and dedication. Which meant that he could trust her to an extent, but still…

‘How does she know me?’ He thought to himself. Chase wasn’t prone to exaggerations, she liked to keep her reports short and to the point, to mimic someone meant she had been watching him for a while. 

“Must have been some party.” The cabbie stated off handedly. Harry blinked as he was dragged away from his thoughts 

That being said Harry had needed a cane to which she gladly conjured. The suit put an incredible strain on on the users body and mind, every time he put it on he felt this rampant need to keep it on, clearly it showed.

“Yeah, something like that.” Was Harry’s tired reply. 

The cabbie laughed for some reason… maybe to humor him. “Yah, yeah, my cousin Michael is pretty much the same, parties all night at the end of the week and needs a healthy cup of Joe.” The man shook his head in mirth. “I always say kids like you should enjoy your lives before you can’t. Cause once you hit forty or get hitched, things start looking bleaker. Take my cousin Frankie as an example, bookworm all his life, never put himself out there till he met this broad, real Broadway type, kid falls head over heels for this woman…” Harry smiled and nodded his head while doing his level best drone the man out.

What else could he do? Practicing magic on muggles without sufficient provocation was grounds for the Morrigan to suspend him for an indefinite amount of time. He could deprive himself of his hearing, but that had its own set of problems. Either way it would be easier to simply deal with it as he had done with professor Binns.

Back to the Inquisitor. ‘How is she spying on me?’ he thought to himself. A Spyglass wasn’t entirely out of the question, they were rare but not entirely restricted by the ICW. The owning of a Spyglass was frowned upon by polite society, but when has that ever stopped anyone? The Malfoys had one, the Zabinis had one; basically if you had money and were a sphere of influence you could get away with anything. 

For all he knew about Blake, she could be both but it was rather unlikely.

Security feeds were the more likely answer, but they were highly restricted. The analyst guarded feeds zealously. Harry had yet to hear of an agent whose managed to access it without a department heads approval. A sudden turn jolted Harry against the restrains keeping him in place.

“You heard about Quinn?” 

“No.”

“That’s odd.” The cabbie said, scratching his chin. “I thought you Grim Reaper types would have been all over this.”

“Grim reaper type?” Harry asked. 

“You know like a spook, my uncle Johnny was a spook and you two pretty much have the same vibe”

“Right, so tell me about Quinn.”

“Not much to tell,” He said. “Some ass hat in Washington decided to move Quinn to a meta prison and they lost track of her. Bitch, even started a riot from what heard.”

In other words, Harley Quinn was free to cause chaos and destruction at her pace. Dr. Harleen Quinzel was a genius when it came to abnormal psychology, her works before entering Arkham once there discrepancies in her profile started popping up. He needed to research the woman he owed a favor to. Hopefully her breakout didn’t have anything to do with Joker’s plans for Halloween. 

Harry could already feel a headache coming on. 

“And it ain’t over, my cousin Michael he’s working for the GCPD, I told you about him, says that they found the clown’s face three weeks ago.” The taxi ran a red light and swerved to avoid upcoming traffic.

“His face?” Why wasn’t he told about this.

“Yeah, looks like he ran into another freak and pissed ‘em off.” He shook his head, mournfully. “The sheer amount of body parts they found numbered above a hundred people, but the sicko was tying the pieces together.”

So, the GCPD was keeping the news of their deadliest villain’s demise quiet to the delay the inevitable power struggle it would create in Gotham’s underworld. Great for a short term plan, not so much for the long. 

Harry had a feeling that they would soon figure out the mess they had unknowingly unleashed. 

The driver sped past the numerous city blocks until abruptly stopping at the entrance to hotel Avalon. Even from the cab Hary could feel the magical energy coming from the high-class hotel. 

Avalon was one of the most exclusive hotels run by Papa Midnite and for good reason, it stood atop one of few the entrances to the Underworld. There were all manner of creature staying at the hotel, some light other as dark as pitch but like Time in a Bottle it had the same powerful spells that kept its guests from fighting. 

Without even looking Harry handed a wad of pounds into the cabbie’s hand and offered the man a good-day before he could ask for the fare.

A rather impish looking man in a screeching red suit pulled the door open and helped Harry out of the cab. “Lord Black, your double said to expect you yesterday.” He greeted in a posh tone, but that didn’t’ matter to Harry as he looked around the room, the floor was made from black marble with stone arches supporting the roof, and marveled at the two birds, a Phoenix and an Augurey, chasing each other around the room. At the back of the lobby was a club area, with a bar and a dance floor, 

Harry was about to reply when the heavy scent of summer peaches hit him, normally the smell of peaches wouldn’t do much for him but for some reason it sparked something he had buried. He looked around the lobby searching for the source of the desirable scent, until he found it at the bar. A woman with short black hair, skin as pale smoke, and dusky eyes. She turned her head and seemed to stare right at him with seductive yellow eyes. For an instant, Harry swore she had two shadows but he convinced himself it was jus a trick of the light. 

If it weren’t for the impish man standing to his left, Harry would have walked to the bar. “Your double has also instructed me to direct you to room two-oh-five as soon as you arrived.” The impish man extended his arm to him. “Lord Black, it is a very long walk to the room, sir.” There were six hundred rooms in Avalon, making it the second largest magical hotel in North America, or so he’d heard.

Harry took one last look at the woman before turning to him. “Side-along, then?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“You have my permission.” Harry accepted the offer and clasped the man’s hand, just as his hand made contact they disapparareted. In a blink of an eye the two men stood outside of room Two hundred and five. Before Harry could even recover, the impish looking had apparated away and left in his hand a sleek black key card.

The hall followed the same color scheme as the lobby, black marble floor with oak covered walls, and dim light coming from floating chandeliers. It was then that he felt that terrible cold that had snapped him out of paradise run up his spine,

For the longest time Harry just stood stark still, watching the far off darkness at the end of the hall. As if the very darkness was hiding a presence from him. Harry readied his wand but knew that he was in no real danger, it had only been a dream after all.

“It is never just a dream, Harry Black.” A voice said from the shadows. “Here less than other places…” With that said the presence faded away and Harry entered the room.

To no ones surprise, the room was luxurious. There were no walls, only glass windows charmed to show the cosmos. Black infinity surrounded them as they circled a red sun, it being the only light in the room did nothing for his mood. He walked across the dark space towards the black hole that he assumed was the bedroom.

The room was pitch black except for the light of a glistening computer screen. 

Curiosity quickly got the better of him, he peeked and was truly shocked. 

In the computer was the frozen image him shooting electricity from his hands onto an unsuspecting Killer Croc during the Small World incident… after Croc had put him through a wall. It wasn’t his proudest moment, he could admit that, he’d let his anger get the best of him and zap! 

Half his arm is burnt. 

That’s why wizards tend to use wands, they help direct the power without risking damage to the practitioner. A quick to the esc button shrunk the picture and revealed a number of folders, each one with a different operation that he had been involved in. 

“Aren’t you a curious thing?” A woman said with a like Irish accent. Harry was quick to turn and pinned the voice’s owner to the wall with his weight and pressing his wand to her temple. The woman had a dark feel about her, not surprising when referring to a woman known as the Inquisitor.

There was something undoubtedly dangerous about her, something he thought he saw before her features seemed to shift, but that could have been because of the polijuice. She had thick eyelid and dark black hair that framed her face, her eyes were a striking violet color that seemed to glow in the darkness “Come on, little Harry, there’s no need for wands till after the second date.” She said in a taunting voice.

Harry was not having it. “Where did you get my file?” He hissed out.

“Our boss, of course.”

“The Morrigan?” He took a step back and lowered his wand as he felt the wards start to kick in. “She gave another nomad my file?”

“She couldn’t exactly ask a one of her regulars to spy on you, now could she?” She tried for disarming smile but came out predatory. “Why don’t we start over? Try to be friends, after all you and I will be seeing each other a lot.”

“I really doubt that.”

“Didn’t the boss tell you? I’m gonna be yer partner.”

“Well shit.”

“So, what does the Hound do when he’s alone in New York?”

“Many personal things.”

“Like hunting, I get’cha.” She giggled. “but what kind of hunting I wonder? I hear Zatanna has some very fine legs.”

“You don’t know me but for the sake of our future partnership, I would prefer if you’d stayed the hell away from my friends.” 

“Oh, don’t worry little Harry, I won’t go near them, but before I forget…” She scrambled to the dresser and handed Harry a silver fountain pen. “the boss wants to se you.”

“Wha-

o0o0o0o0o  
-at?”He asked as he suddenly fund himself in the Morrigans office.

“Good evening, Agent Black.” The Morrigan greeted in her usual tone. She was dressed in her usual black robes. 

“Good evening, ma’am.” He replied in as much of respectable tone as he could manage after coming out a portkey. 

“It appears you ran into trouble in New York.”

Harry saw an opportunity to see just how closely she had him watched. “Nothing that I couldn’t handle, ma’am.” He lied.

Bait set.

“Is that so?” She asked with a measure of sarcasm. She pulled a single file from the bottom right drawer “Well, if you’re sure, then I see no reason to give you this.” 

“And this is?”

“Secondary target for tomorrow’s operation.”

“What does this have to do with New York?” 

“Mister Bones informed me that you entered into heavy combat with a meta. That same meta was detected entering Surrey by our sensors. Agent Blake mentioned sensing you in a snare.”

“You’re having me watched?” 

“Of course.” She said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I needed to be certain you were preparing for tomorrow’s operation and not gallivanting with your fishnet stocking friend.” There was a bit of bite detectable at the end.

“The supplies are safely stored in my satchel.”

“Yes, but that wouldn’t matter if we lost you.” She said in a low voice. “Without you we lose our ticket into the mirror house; if we don’t enter the auction we do not get the Dream Ruby and it disappears for years before someone uses like John Dee did four years ago.” ‘The will of Dee.’ Harry realized.

“Let me guess,” Harry said reaching for the file. “Dee is the one in the file.”

“Yes. If you encounter him, and I do mean if, take him down.”

Harry forced a smile and nodded. Ruby, Ayesha, and, if the opportunity presents itself, defeat Doctor Destiny. “It’ll be my pleasure ma’am.” Still, it was slightly unnerving that she had him watched. Who was he kidding? He was ticked. 

“What are your thoughts on agent Blake?”

“Haven’t known her long enough to make a solid opinion, but if you think we’ll be an effective team I trust in your judgement.”

“Good, I expect to have the ruby in our possession tomorrow agent Black. The money has been wired to your account.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Don’t disappoint me.” Harry took the dismissal for what it was and stuffed the manila envelope in his satchel before exiting the office. Harry walked straight passed the bullpen and into the elevator 

o0o0o0o0o  
A short walk later had him standing in the middle of Tower Bridge.

It was a rather cloudy evening in London, with October finally passed the days promised to only get cloudier. Harry took a deep breath of air as he took in the river Thames, watching the water ripple sporadically. 

He liked the few moment of peace afforded to him when he watched the water. If closed his eyes he could just imagine his younger-self flying with Sirius under and over bridges like the one he was standing on, but he didn’t close his eyes.

He had enough of dreams and their like. 

Harry rested his elbows on the cool, stone barrier that separated him and the water, and sighed once again. Things felt so much more complicated than they were just a few short weeks ago. Back then the Morrigan pointed him at a target and let him loose, now he was rescuing people and gathering information. He knew now that the old hawk was having him watched, but why?

Whatever the reason he was damn well sure that she hadn’t told him the truth. 

He’d been both loyal and effective as agent, he’d done his job and would continue to do so. Harry kept his personal life and professional life as separate as circumstances allowed him to.

‘It’s all very frustrating.’ He thought to himself almost jokingly.

Harry rested his head in his and stared at the dark water.

“There are wrackspurts floating near your left ear, Harry.” A dreamy voice said from behind him. Harry didn’t have to turn around to know whom the voice belonged to. Luna Lovegood had always been a space oddity, present but never truly there.

At least she was until she became part of Charles’ cabal at which point she was rather active. Mostly she hovered around him just far enough to be noted but other wise ignored. Harry had at one point wanted to befriend the girl but her association with Ginerva Weasley made impossible for the longest time. As it stood Luna probably knew more about him than he would ever learn from her.

Harry looked over his shoulder letting Lovegood have a nice view of the silvery scars that Greyback had so kindly impartedon him show. “Evening, miss Lovegood.” Harry greeted lamely.

“It is evening isn’t it?” She commented absently. “Other wise, Barnabas would have had a chance to tinkle on Rolf’s papers and I would have been exceedingly pleased.”

Honestly Harry had no way to respond without digging himself deeper into someone’s personal life. So, Harry turned to look at the odd woman who stood behind him. 

Luna dressed in a rainbow of colors, none that were actually on the rainbow, and a pair of odd-looking spectacles. But what really caught his eye was the rather large black and brown German Shepard cross, who sat calmly watching him with intelligent, black eyes. At first he thought that the dog was an Animagus, but it felt different. His inner fox hissed and yowled in the back of his brain. 

“Where did you get him?” He asked crouching down to the dogs level. Harry’s hand slowly drifted onto the dog’s head and began scratch his long ear.

For some reason, Luna’s smile grew even more mysterious, in his opinion. “I’m taking care of him for a friend.” 

Harry nodded once and rose. “I think the polite thing to do would be to ask how you’ve been doing, but for some reason, I believe you’d prefer to know how I’ve been.” He said, leaning back on the railing. 

“That would more than acceptable.”

“I’ve been fine, busy but fine.”

“That’s good, Barnabas has been keeping me company while Rolf has been off researching quintapeds. Did you hear about Charlie? ”

“That he was arrested? Yes, yes did.”

“Oh, he never mentioned an arrest I was going to tell you that it’s a boy. “

For the second time in the last twenty four, Harry forced smile onto his face and cursed that he couldn’t make it to the Bottle till after he’d done the mission. “That’s nice.” Sirius had taught him that it was rather rude scowl when given good news, even if he honestly couldn’t care less one way or the other.

Luna smiled, taking his words at face value. “Yeah and your mom’s having a girl. Must be strange having a sister after twenty-seven years of having a brother, but I wouldn’t know. Daddy never had any other kids… it was so lonely.”

Once more, Harry found himself without a way to respond. When he was nine, Harry would have given anything for a family, but life had taught him that it wasn’t all that nice, but that was honestly just his experience. 

“I think Rolf is going to break up with me.” Luna said after a pause. “he’s been going to on trips more and more of often, I don’t know what to do.”  
“Luna, I honestly don’t think that I’m the best guy to talk about relationships with.”

“I know, but Barnabas wasn’t much help either.”

Harry didn’t know if it was luck or destiny that Lennox made his appearance when he did. The hulking blonde rushed at Harry, threw him, over his shoulder and ran faster than Harry though a man of his muscle mass could manage.

“The wind is calling, mate, no time to explain.” He shouted as they ran across the bridge, leaving a confused and slightly flustered Luna alone with her friend’s dog.

“What an odd man.” The dog said, tugging on his leash. “Best be off then, dinner will get cold.” 

 

o0o0o0o0o

A/N: All right, I decided to split this chapter for a number of reasons: One for dramatic effect, and two I want to write the mirror house perfectly.

 

Now clue to the Old Man’s identity: he made his first appearance in DC 1942 and has been a recurring character ever since.

Hope you liked Miranda Blake( now officially an OC after reading the Cursed Child.)

As always feel free to review and PM with whatever questions you might have.

Be sure to check out my other stories.

Happy trails,

Until we meet again.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter IX: The Back Mirror (Part Two)

“…From the Dark they call you… Into the Dark they call you…”

-Roderick Burgges.

o0o0o0o0o

Harry thought that being carried by a hulking lummox like Lennox would garner a number of odd looks, but no one seemed to notice as the duo as they sprinted through Potters Fields Park. Admittedly it was a nice park, but the lack of trees sort of bugged him.

Angelica would certainly love it, but then again, the soon to be four-year-old witch loved everything that he did with her. Harry shook his head quickly.

‘Focus, Harry.’

Harry looked up at his long time friend and studied his face. Lennox was a very ugly man, a mix between a rugby player who’d taken far too many hits to the face and a bulldog. His expression was right, his posture slightly tense but that’s what happens when you’ve seen the things Lennox had seen, and he smelled pretty much the same.

But something was very wrong.

Lennox was, admittedly more of an asshole than John (something that Lennox was very proud of) but he’d never acted like he was that particular evening, not even when he’d ripped out his sister’s throat.

There was a bit of a bite nipping at his uncovered ears prompting Harry to shift into his animagus form, which was admittedly much less conspicuous than a man carrying another man over his shoulder, but at that moment Harry didn’t particularly care.

His mind was too busy trying to remember any and all information he could find about demigods and Polyjuice potion. While it was true that was designed to mimic the appearance of another living witch or wizard and it was advertised that it didn’t work on half-wizard half creature offspring, that statement wasn’t exactly true. The potion would work but the side effects were far too random and often times too lethal for any sane witch or wizard to attempt it.

But as luck would have it there were plenty of idiots who were willing to try. Harry had long ago stopped being surprised with what people were willing to do for even more power, and Lennox was very powerful.

The thought of someone going after one of his few friends spurred him on

His ears were ringing and his blood was boiling under his skin as his inner fox’s flight instinct kicked in and took over. Even though it put him at a disadvantage, speech wise, it did allow Harry to jump off Lennox and onto the soft, green grass.

The wizard quickly put some distance between him and the British juggernaut.

Lennox was quick to turn but by then Harry was back to his normal, non fur covered form and his ash wand leveled at his chest. “Lennox, what did we do November seventh last year?” Harry hissed, partially because of his aching muscles and partially because he didn’t enjoy being picked up randomly. “After the crawl.” He specified.

When Lennox hesitated to explain, Harry made the tip of his wand glow brightly, a simple lumos but Len never really paid attention when he tried to explained magic.

“Mate, this kind of hard to explain….”

“Answer the bloody question!”

“Harry, mate.” Lennox said lifting his hands. “Are you drunk?”

“I’m giving you one more chance!”

“Harry, you were in the continent last November.” The large man stated slowly. “You were hanging in Jerry territory.” Harry dropped his wand but kept it firmly in his hand. “Now that we established that I’m not some imposter, would ya follow me, we have a car waiting for us.”

“Where exactly is this car taking us?”

Lennox looked at him pointedly. “We’re off to se your Missus, mate. “

‘Ah,’ Harry thought lamely.

It would make sense that Daphne would send Lennox after him. As much the witch would deny it, Daph had a heart of silver when it came to him and gold when it came the little angel.

“Not the one you’re thinking of.” Lennox said upon noticing the slight smile forming on Harry’s lips. “The other one.”

There was only one woman in the country whom Lennox could be referencing and she was one of the few people that Harry honestly wished he hadn’t ever met… let alone sleep with. Clarice Sackville was a sorceress of many years, her first sighting was well over two hundred years ago, but looked and dressed like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

Harry knew of one other witch that had impossibly extended her lifespan and he was certain that she hadn’t left Surrey since his time in Private Drive.

The realization was both sudden and unexpected. How many years had it been since he had walked the Halls of the Tate Club? It was probably a year after joining the DEO and even after that he’d barely sparred a thought toward the cold woman that had warmed his bed after Carolyn’s death.

“Oh, hell!” Harry shouted nearly

John had had once described Clarice perfectly…well at least in Harry’s opinion. ‘The unholy union of a syphilitic Tory Peer and an Illiterate scullery maid. Ageless, timeless, and shameless.’

He could attest to the shameless part personally.  
She was, and by the grace of the Creeping Chaos himself, would always be the Darkest Witch that had ever walked the streets of London. She was undoubtedly one of Harry’s worse mistakes

“Hell is right, mate!”

“How exactly did she find you?” Harry said rubbing the scars on his face.

Lennox had the decency to look ashamed, which was a rather rare sight indeed, and looked at the sky. It was his go to when wasn’t particularly sure how he should answer.

“I was lookin’ for you and I remembered you mentioning the broad… and I sought her out.”

“You charged into the club, didn’t you?” Harry’s tone was almost accusatory but he knew Lennox far too well and it would pointless to accuse him of something he was already sure of.

“There may have been a few moments of charging but you could’ve warned me better.” He tried to excuse. “You said they were a bunch of posh cunts.”

The urge to rub his scars was growing with every word. “I think, I said dangerous posh cunts.” Harry hissed. “I also told you, explicitly, to stay the hell away from Clarice!” It hadn’t been the first time that Lennox had ignored his advice, like the time he had bare-knuckle match with Wildcat or when he betting on the Chudley Cannons. “Did she tell why she wanted to see me?”

“Not really, but it can’t be that bad.”

“Mate.” Harry said in a flat tone, he was far too sore to get in row with Lennox. “When a witch, and I mean any witch, asks you to find something you say ‘no’.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because things are never as they appear.” Harry honestly wanted to curse Lennox. Nothing serious just a simple jelly legs hex or curse him into only being able to sing but sadly that would be much more troublesome than it was worth.

With a rather ragged sigh began to walk past Lennox. “Take me to the bloody car, Len.”

o0o0o0o0o

Lily Potter nee Evans loved the feeling of quickly approaching winter but hated the sight of the browning earth dying trees, but it was not the bleak weather that had her in such a dower mood it was the date. Once again November first had reared its ugly head once more and like every time this date approached Lily felt miserable.

Twenty-six years ago, she had given away one of her babies and not a day went by that she did not regret it. Sure, she had Charley but he had always taken after James while Harry had been attached to her from the second he’d been born. It had all been for the Greater Good,

Harry would have been in danger had they not given him to Petunia.

Lily nearly sobbed at the thought.

She knew Harry would be unhappy living with her sister but at least he would have been safe. That was the only reassurance she could give herself without sounding like a complete failure. Lily could have blamed Dumbledore for her troubles, but she was the one who had decided to listen to the Warlock’s advice at James urging. At the time it had made perfect sense at the time, with the bodies of Fleamont and Euphimia cooling in the next room.

It hadn’t been until she had seen Harry, his face bloody, clutching the Davis girl’s body, after watching him incinerating Bellatrix’s body, that she had come to realize that survival didn’t mean victory.

She had seen his shining green eye spark with power and anger… she wouldn’t see him for three years and by then the boy she had kept at a distance had become a man. What could she give him? She hadn’t approached him when he was in school because she was scared of his reaction and when he’d come back dressed in black toting a gun she feared Harry wouldn’t need her.

And he hadn’t.

They would see each other while walking through London, or in Diagon Alley, or at social gatherings he couldn’t wiggle himself out of, but never did he seek her out. He was polite, if not a bit cold, but what could she expect… she was a stranger to him.

A stranger that wore his mother’s face...

Lily sat up from her spot on the couch and moved to the second floor patio, over looking the brownish gardens of the Potter Manor. The sun was already going down and twilight was quickly approaching. It was a large garden usually filled with all types of flowers and ample space to train and play.

The little girl growing in her would undoubtedly enjoy them until she was old enough to attend Hogwarts, but there were doubts that plagued her. How would she explain that one of her brother’s wanted nothing to do with her?

She stared at the garden until a glimpse of motion caught her eye. A white snowy owl descended into the patio and deposited a single letter before flying away, without a second thought.

“Hedwig!!” she tried calling but the owl didn’t stop. Resigning herself to another perceived failure Lily ripped open the envelope and pulled out an all too fancy invitation.

You are cordially invited to the birthday of Angelica Tracey Greengrass.  
Location: Greengrass Manor, Hag’s Orchard.  
Date: 17th of November  
5:00pm – 9:00pm  
Bring a gift.  
Hope you can make it,  
Sincerely,  
Lady Daphne Greengrass, Head of Noble House Greengrass.

The invitation was rather plain in design, with no well wishes or embroidery, just finely penned letters written in black ink that seemed to flow out of the page. Still, it brought a smile to her face, it gave her an opportunity to reach out to Harry… and maybe actually talk to him…

“You’re a Gryffindor, Lily.” She scolded herself. “ Act like it.”

Lily went back into the house with a new sense of purpose.

o0o0o0o0o

“ I don’t like this.” Lennox said as the two walked passed the stone slab with Dionysus’s laughing face and the words etched into the stone that read:

TATE  
CLUB  
-  
MEMBERS  
ONLY

The only light in the dark alley came from an enchanted gas lamp that was attached to one of the adjacent buildings, it offered the slightest of glows as the small flame burned an eerie white color.

Harry knew he would be walking into a den of wolves, but when summoned by such a prestigious organization with so many ties to the Magical Underworld he couldn’t risk irking them any more than he had by sleeping with a founder. The Old Man would have skinned him alive for walking into his potential doom wounded and without a plan.

Harry looked up at his friend and saw the genuine traces of fear in what usually was a fearless mask. “You don’t have to -”

“Are you taking a piss, mate?” Lennox said annoyed. “Do you honestly think I’d take ya to the gates of hell and leave there?”

“No, that wasn’t what I was thinking at all.” Harry replied. “I was thinking that it a miracle that they didn’t kill you the first time around and how I honestly don’t want to tempt fate.’

“Harry, I was fighting the Jerries in France before your dad was a glimmer in yer granda’s eyes, I can handle some high class posh cunts.” Lennox said with as much bravado as he could manage. “Besides I need ya for what’s coming.”

“Is that why you were looking for me?” Lennox wasn’t really one to ask for help, he was very much like Goyle but with an unstoppably Gryffindor spirit… hence the altercation with Wildcat.

“That and I heard ya got yer arse kicked by Papa Midnite.”

“In my defense,I was drunk.”

“Mate, I’m wasted half the time and I still get my ass handed to me less than you.”

“Oi, not all of us are made out of rocks.”

“Not all of us can turn thing into frogs, now can we?” To that Harry had no witty comeback. “Harry, you really need to start looking out fer yourself, one of these days your gonna tangle with something that even you wont be able to get away from.”

Harry looked at Lennox and for a brief instant he saw maturity in the old demigods eyes, still he was lost for words and with a slow nod made his way to the pitch black oak wood door and knocked three times.

The door flew open revealing a rather handsome young man, with sandy blonde hair and absent look in eyes. He dressed in a white uniform similar to that of the Queen’s guard, he was undoubtedly one of Clarice’s unfortunate victims that was forced to serve in her own little Babylon. “State your name, sir.” The man demanded in a dull, monotone voice.

“Lord Hadrian Black, of the Ancient and Noble House of Black.” Harry stated, using the lessons that Andromeda supplied in the summers he spent in Grimmuld. “ This man.” Harry said gesturing at Lennox. “Is my trusted manservant… Leonesius.” Lennox gave him a pointed look but otherwise remained silent until Clarice’s thrall was well enough away that he couldn’t possibly overhear them.

He rested hand on Harry’s shoulder, stopping his advance and holding him in place. “Who the fuck is Hadrian and since when am I some fucking roman sounding butler?”

Harry, who had the decency to look a bit sheepish, proceeded to explain the name. “Cardinal Rule of Magic, Len, never give people your real name.”

It took Lennox a moment to realize the implications that came with the information but he eventually got, and he looked a bit irked, for lack of a better word. “So you’re telling me Harold isn’t your real name?”

“Just Harry.”

“Just Harry, what?”

“My name, it’s just Harry.”

“So why Harold?”

“It’s sounds way more intimidating than ‘Agent Harry Black’.”

Lennox looked like he was ready to smack Harry, but instead let him go and let out a baffled laugh. “That is possibly the dumbest thing I heard in a good while, mate.”

The two proceed though the marble hallway that was bathed in red candle light, passing paintings of the great battlefields where the Tate Club gained England great victories, omitting of course the great losses they suffered in their two hundred years of existence. There was even a painting with the Morrigan fighting alongside the Club as they battled Grinderwald’s approaching forces. She was blasting what appeared to be a nasty looking exploding hex from the tip Willow wood wand. Even back then, he could see the cold fire behind those nearly silvery eyes.

A brief examination later, Harry continued down what could only be described a hallway dedicated to the many narcissistic leaders of the infamous Tate Club. Every ten steps there were men dressed in that same uniform as the one greeter wore, and each one shared the same glassy-eyed look as the rest.

Lennox was growing more uncomfortable with every step taken, his posture grew stiffer and his bandaged fists clenched and unclenched.

The Main Hall was just as extravagant as Harry remembered it, three silver chandeliers, encrusted with diamonds of varying sizes, hung overhead as if a reminder of their collective wealth. In the center running from one end of the room was a table, rumored to be carved from the houses of those who stood against the Club in its early years, and on that table was banquet fit for a small army but meant for just over a dozen men and women.

The members were all the same.

Forgettable figures that once could have been the greatest wizards of their time but like so many before them had overshadowed by figure who spoke louder and acted less, now they acted like guardians protecting London from threats that even the great Albus Dumbledore would cower away from.

Though he did spot a few familiar faces, like the host of the event, Clarice, who sat at the very head of the table, to her right was Albert, the hag’s only friend. Albert was something of an oddity in the magical community, both dead and living, Harry was of the opinion that the man soul was bound to his body by some type of Fakir magic. Then there was the Blind Fury, one of London’s most infamous crime bosses, she sat near the center of the table next to what appeared to be a relative of Cobblepot.

Clarice caught sight of him as soon as the duo entered the hall, with a resounding snap of her fingers the guest of at the table fell into an uneasy silence. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I must ask that you excuse me while I attend to my special guests, but first...” She stood up, raising a cup sparkling wine. “A toast.”

The entire table rose and she sent them a dazzling smile. “ To Lord Hadrian Black, may he lead his house to prosperity.” Her voice was soft but there was power hiding behind it.

“To Hadrian!” They shouted in return, and drank from their glasses.

Satisfied with the toast, Clarice signaled Harry to follow her and he did. She walked through the dark wood doors that if memory Harry correctly, lead to the Library.

It was almost surprising how little had actually changed since he’d been away, but he truly wasn’t. The only thing that seemed to change was the staff and on rare occurrence there would be a new member inducted into the shadowy organization.

Once Harry and Lennox reached the library they found Clarice sitting on a large black leather chair and in front of her were three finely wrapped boxes and two smaller chairs.

“How have you been, Clarice?”

Clarice responded by giving him a rather seductive smirk and motioning to the chairs. “I am well, Harry. Things haven’t been the same since you left.”

“I would imagine they wouldn’t be, are you still having trouble with the Dark Arts Defense League?”

“Not since the summer solstice, but what can one do when idiots hide behind every corner.” The ancient witch tapped her cheek three times after saying corner. “I fear that dear Alfred is going to expire one of these days, thanks to those pests.”

“Well… there’s not much the Department can do in respects to them.” Harry said with a smile. “They usually steer clear of the larger scandals, but every now and then a few of them start acting up and we get to scold them.”

“I see that your time with the DEO has lightened your spirits, you used to be such a skulkey lad.” Her eyes flickered to Lennox and then back to Harry. “Harry, you must tell me where you found such an interesting creature, a demigod like him are very hard to come by.”

That earned a snort from aforementioned demigod and a genuine laugh from Harry. “Thank Merlin there’s only one of him.” Harry joked. “I don’t think London could survive two of him.”

“Too true, my dear, too true.” Clarice said pretended to wipe something from her immaculate face. “But enough small talk, I’m sure you’re wondering why I you’re your golem to collect you.”

“He was building up to that.” Lennox said gruffly. Harry shot him a look but was ignored in favor of glaring at Clarice.

“Indeed he was.” She said curtly. “You see Harry, the heads of house Black have a notoriously short lifespan, due to inter familial intrigue or from enemies most tend to die in the first few years. So, it is a matter of celebration to see a lord live as long as you have.” She paused as if searching for the right words, but she was quick to continue. “As such prestigious organizations like the club and others…” She said looking directly into Harry’s eyes, demonstrating the amount of knowledge she had about his professional life. “… tend to shower you with gifts to show our continued allegiance through the storms to come.”

“So, you’re bribing him.” Lennox sad plainly, before Harry had a chance to respond.

“In a sense, yes.” She replied sounding amused. “The House of Black may not be as large as it once was but it still holds tremendous power, even if it does not know it.” Clarice then motioned to the three boxes that Harry had noticed earlier. “These are the gifts of our alliance.” She said picking one up and handing it to Harry. “I offer you a gift of strength.”

“Thank you.” Harry said awkwardly as he took it.

He had never gotten used to the idea of people giving him gifts outside his birthday, not even after being taken in by Sirius. Slowly he unwrapped the paper, it revealed a small plain metal box. Inside the box was a ring made of the blackest metal he’d ever seen.

Harry gently plucked the ring from the box and held it up to the candle light and to his amazement the ring did not reflect the small flame.

“That ring belonged to the first Lord Black in France until Cygnus Black the first died.” Clarice informed him. “Make no mistake, that ring is cursed, but it’s the curse that makes it so important to your House. The ring limits the amount of magic the wearer can usher through their wands, making spells so much weaker when casted normally your predecessors took that as a challenge and it is because of that ring that people first came to respect your bloodline.”

“Interesting.” Harry said before pocketing the ring. “Where did you find it?”

“Albert found it on our trip to Siberia.” Harry nodded, deciding that it would be best that he’d pay the family library a visit before placing the ring on his person.

Clarice then handed him the second gift. “A gift of knowledge.” She had called it.

Harry had expected a book or some old dusty tome but he would have never even guessed that a small hand mirror would in anyway symbolize knowledge.

“That mirror houses one of the brightest sorceresses I have ever encountered and if it weren’t for the fact that only the Lord of House Black could use this I wouldn’t even consider mentioning it to you and if it hadn’t been for the Morrigan I wouldn’t have given it to you.” She said seriously. “Search your library and you will find a book with more information.” She said it with such a sense of finality that neither Harry no Lennox decided to press on for more information

“Lastly, I offer a gift of power.” Clarice said handing him a small box. Harry was quick to unwrap it and pull out its contents. The gift was a solitary dagger made from copper like steel. “Albert insisted I give this to you as a gift from him, this dagger has served him well in his youth and now he passes it on to you. He told me to make sure that you take care of it.”

“I will.” Harry assured.

Once more Harry gave his thanks, Clarice simply nodded her head and dismissed him and Lennox with a wave of her hand, teleporting them outside.

“Well, that went better than expected.” Harry heard Lennox murmur. “Can’t believe I was scared of that one.”

“She was playing nice.”

“Aye, she was.”

“Are you going to tell me why you were looking for me?” Harry finally asked.

“I’ll tell ya when we’re alone.” Lennox said, pointing to the dancing shadows in at the exit of the alleyway. “She’s not very subtle, is she?”

Harry laughed. “Not when she’s agitated.” The wizard then drew his wand and readied himself for a fight. “Try not to kill them, Len.”

“No promises.” The demigod said cracking his knuckles. “Oi, why don’t ya step out of the shadows and face like men!” He shouted and that was enough for three figure to step in wearing white dueling robes.

Harry almost immediately recognized two of them one was none other than Gilderoy Lockhart, Harry would remember the frauds face anywhere from the sheer amount of time he spent obsessing about himself and the other was Zacharias Smith, a coward who knocked down first year students in an attempt to evacuate Hogwarts.

Lockhart, who had surprisingly been the first to steep out of his hiding spot, spoke. ”Gentlemen, as I’m certain you know who I am and I know you wouldn’t want to tangle with a man whose forgotten more about magic than either of you would ever know, I’m sure you understand that you have to come with us.”

“I don’t think we will.” Lennox said lifting his fists.

“Let’s just-“ Harry had shot an expelliarmus before Zacharias could start the sentence, disarming him. The unidentified wizard shot Lennox with a stunner but thanks to his incredibly hard and thick skin Lennox was able to shrug it off barreled right at him.

Lockhart was frozen in place, not sure what he was supposed to be doing which gave Harry plenty of time to walk over to him slam his fist across the man’s large jaw. Sure, Harry could have stunned the man but it wouldn’t have been quite as satisfying as slamming his closed fist into his second year teacher’s face.

Harry was quick to shoot a stupefy a retreating Zacharias, the bugger collapsed like a house of cards when the small red hex smacked into his back.

With two of the three assailants dealt with Harry turned to see how Lennox was doing when a spark of red exploded from the man’s wand, just as the demigod smashed the man against the wall that had that singular lantern. Harry watched as the red spark flew into the London sky and exploded in array of lights.

Harry couldn’t stop the sigh from escaping his mouth.

What kind of bloke signaled the Aurors when attacking someone?

Then it hit him. Lockhart, the last time Harry checked, was an honorary member of Dark Force Defense League.

Before Harry could tell Lennox to let go of the man he was whaling on four Aurors disapparated in the middle of the alley, surrounding them.

‘The boss is going to kill me.’ Harry thought to himself as a familiar purple haired Auror ordered them to fall onto their stomachs. To avoid the undoubtedly longer debacle that would have occurred if he resisted Harry did as he was told… Lennox was made to.

 

o0o0o0o0o

A/N: Well, still no Mirror House but I honestly blame that on the exams that occupied too much of my time.

Next chapter, I promise.

To coldblue:

Harry met Harley in chapter two.

Doctor Fate made his comic debut in 1940 not 1942.

 

Onto the wandless magic. The only two reasons it hurt Harry in the video were A) He was wet, if you remember when Harry was under the effects of the Black Mercy he observed that magic is much more potent in water. B) Harry is inexperienced when it comes to wandless magic, and lets face it there are at least two examples of wandless magic that I remember from the Harry Potter series one of them being a wizard mixing his tea while reading a book and the other was a witch who’s in Azkaban for her multiple attempts at breaking the Statute of Secrecy.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I found it kind of meh but that’s just me.


	10. The Black Mirror (Part III)

Chapter X: The Black Mirror (Part III)

 

_“There is danger here._

**_Death_ ** _.  
_

_I savor this fear that tries to overwhelm me. It can’t hurt me, I’m young and invulnerable. I’m a great adventurer seeking a deep mystery it’s just likes story books. I’ll discover the hidden secret and live and live happily ever after._

_Won’t I?”_

_-Bruce Wayne_

_o0o0o0o0o_

Harry sat on the farthest steel bench from the thick metal door of magically sealed cell, fiddling with the cursed ring that he’d been given earlier that evening. Lennox was banging against the cells entrance like an enraged troll, demanding to be set free, achieving only to strike fear into the cowering Lockhart, trembling Smith, and their sweating nameless companion who resided in the adjacent cell.

Harry paid them little mind.

Light did not reflect off the ring, thus making the detailed scales etched into it nearly impossible to see. Had it been a relic from any other family Harry would have assumed that the scales were meant to represent a dragon, but this little nasty belonged to the Blacks and they would have never settled for something so common as a dragon.

Most members of his adoptive house were rather full of themselves, and knowing that, Harry could easily deduce that the pattern was supposed to symbolize the one reptile that would forever be considered King to all, a basilisk. Of course that was just speculation.

It was fascinating how such a small chunk of metal could change the course of one line so drastically. Had the many heads of house been the tiniest bit less arrogant and with a pinch of sanity, Harry would have never have been able to gain the title of Lord Black. He may have never met Sirius…

Harry couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of what would have happened had the wizard never taken him from Private Drive. He wasn’t a child of Prophecy, so he doubted anyone would have come looking for him on his eleventh birthday. He would have been at the mercy of an abusive uncle, a neglectful aunt, and a cousin who could literally get away with his murder had he so wished it.

He would have suppressed his magic… much more than he had before until a parasite could have formed around his core, waiting for the moment of complete and total desperation, when he could do nothing but let go… to become nothing, to become an Obscurial.

 _‘The idle mind is a master of horror.’_ Harry thought to himself, scarred features set into a deep contemplative scowl as he pocketed the small, cursed, black ring. ‘ _Mine, more than most.’_

Harry had only ever encountered one Obscurial and he had been the reason he’d been in Germany for an entire year. It had been a horrible case, ripped straight from the pages of a horror novel, one of the worst Harry had ever been involved with. It had started with the public dismemberment one of the leaders of a neo- _Für-das-Allgemeinwohl_ movement, Lukas Weber, in the center of Lorelie’s square, followed by a spree of destruction and death across the country side, and culminated in the death of a twelve year old boy named Timothy.

Timothy, or Tim as his friends called him, had been a pretty standard boy up until the death of his adoptive parents, William and Mary Hunter. He’d grown up not far from Private Drive and upon his parent’s death when he was seven he’d moved even closer to be with his own aunt and uncle. From there the parallels between Harry and young Tim’s life seemed to grow even his disappearance from the hyper religious household at the age of ten, but instead of being rescued by a quirky godfather, poor Tim was abducted from his home by members of the new _For-the Greater-Good_ movement. The Auror’s had made a muck of the investigation and the DEO had found it too small in scale to waste resources intervening.

And so, Harry never leaned of the small boy with his same round glasses he still wore until it was far too late.

Tim disappeared for two whole years before resurfacing in near a town called Schiltach, just outside of the Black Forest. He was found by a baker who offered him sweets and breads, the boy had was severely malnourished by that time, but he unfortunately didn’t speak English. The baker’s attempts at communication gave Tim’s abductors enough time to track him down. The small bakery was razed, causing the death of the several Muggles, and nearly gave the ICW a stroke. Harry, who had been unfortunate enough to be the Agent assigned to Lukas’ death in the nearby Magical community of Verstcken Hain, was sent to determine if the fire had anything to do with the Weber investigation alongside veteran Auror Linda Felber.

That was when Harry met Tim…

The ring slipped from his grasp, breaking him away from his thoughts about the skinny boy. The black ring skidded across the grey cell floor. Like a shadow it darted beneath the hulking demigod, and stopped with a soft clang as it impacted the metal bars.

With his attention free, Harry stood up from the stone bench and stretched for the first time in what felt like hours. That was the benefit of windowless magical cells, depending on how vindictive the jailers felt a minute could feel like an hour and an hour could pass in a heartbeat. For the unfortunate Witch, Wizard, or Being it was hell, but for an investigator it was a blessing gifted by the second biggest bastard of the twentieth century, Grinderwald.

But Harry, being part of Department of Extranormal Operations, knew that the moment the Aurors had taken him in the Head of the department had been notified of his dilemma.

He would be free before midnight, of that he was certain.

Lennox smashed his fist against the bars one last time and turned towards him. “This is serious bullshit, mate.” He said in his gravelly voice. “It’s not our bloody fault the arsehats attacked!”

Harry let out a slight yawn before responding. “It’s standard procedure, give them a few minutes.” The wizard the gestured to the ring. “Can you pass it to me?”

The blond demigod crouched down and picked it up and held up to the light. “Creepy, that is.” He mumbled as he spun it between two of his large fingers. “You’d think that with a da’ like mine things like this wouldn’ bother me… “ his eyes developed a far away look .”but then you came along and you don’t fail to impress.” Lennox placed the ring carefully in Harry’s offered hand. “Be careful with that.”

Harry looked at him questioningly but remained quiet, instead he decided to address a topic Lennox had delayed long enough. “Why where you looking for me?”

“I told ya we’d talk in private.” Lennox tried to hush.

“It wont get any more private than this.”

The colossal man groaned. “Harry, mate,” He tone betrayed just how aggravating the entire situation was to him. “When we get out of this, I’ll buy you a pint, and tell you, but till then, this is too important to let just anyone hear.” He punctuated his statement by pointing at their Lockhart and his gang.

Harry stared at his long time friend with skepticism written clearly on his scarred features. _‘What has you so spooked’_

“All right,” Harry eventually said. “Just don’t leave it to the last minute.”

With that whatever motivation the duo had seemed to vanish and the two returned to what they were doing before they began their short conversation.

Eventually, Harry’s felt his lids become heavy. Slowly, but surely his senses ceased allowing him to drift into sleep.

o0o0o0o0o

_It was a cold night in the Forbidden Forest, but a young, tired and battered Harry couldn’t feel it. It wasn’t unusual for the Old Man to have him training till the early hours of the morning but it was odd that he would bring a spectator. This probably added to the rush of adrenalin he was currently experiencing as he used his practice sword and bronze shield to sight his constant teacher for the past year._

_The spectator was a woman in strange, leather, foreign armor. Her face was covered under a golden helmet, but Harry could see her dark brown skin thanks to her bare arms. She leaned on a nearby tree, as if she had a choice she wouldn’t have attended his sparring session._

_This wasn’t a memory he was particularly fond of visiting, as he felt it held little sway on how events played out in the future. Though it did bring a sense of satisfaction by its end._

_He watched as young Harry raised his arm in an attempt to intercept his teacher’s long sword coming at him in a downward swing. As soon as the blade made contact with the shield it lifted off at an inhuman speed and came back down with even more force. Harry knew that he would not last long against the Old Man’s merciless barrage._

_Thinking quickly, Harry surged forward, intent on smashing his shield against the Old Man’s bearded face. He felt the satisfying crack of cartilage breaking through the thin metal shield._

_The Old Man stumbled back, stunned._

_Young Harry pushed his momentary advantage by taking a step back and focusing his magic through his shield arm. Harry couldn’t help the smile as he launched his shield at his teacher’s shoulders. The thick piece of metal soared through the air like a discus, impacting where the limb connected with the torso, but sadly it was a glancing blow._

_Harry shook head at his own blatant arrogance. At the time he’d been a decent swordsman but the his teacher was something else entirely, but at least he had his wand with him._

_The Old Man recovered, his black eyes blazed with a fury that his memory could not do justice. Harry turned away knowing that the bout would end with luck favoring his youngerself and the Old Man congratulating him on his quick thinking._

_Harry looked at the thick fat moon that hovered menacingly over the forest._

_“Merlin, how I’ve missed these days…” He whispered to the wind. Harry breathed in the air, closing his eyes, waiting for the memory to cast the Expelliarmus that would win him the battle._

_Harry opened his eyes just as his counter part parried a strike, dodged to the right and pointed his ash wand at the Old Man’s sword, and sent it flying from the warriors callused hand. There was a tense pause in, where the Old Man stared at his empty hand and the younger Harry stood ready o continue the fight. It was then that the grizzled warrior signaled the end of the bout with a booming laugh._

_“Thou hast learned well, my student.” The mentor said, clasping Harry’s shoulder. “Though keep the shield on ye, thy life may depend on it.”_

_“I will, sir”_

_“Good.” He said letting go of his shoulder. “Rest, Thou shall need your strength.” With that young Harry gathered his things and departed from the clearing. Harry expected that the memory would follow him but instead he stayed next to the helmeted woman as the Old Man watched the boy walk away._

_“He’s unpredictable.” The helmeted woman finally spoke up Her voice was strong . “But I believe he’ll do.”_

_“My sister chose well.” The Old Man agreed, but there was doubt in his black eyes. “But there are others whom would be better suited for thy lady’s task.”_

_Harry remained silent as he attempted to process the new information. Was this a memory or had it become a dream? That was the question that he needed answered. As an Occlumens dreams should have been filtered into pure memory but he was not present to witness this conversation._

_“Unless Dee’s parasite did more than I initially assumed.” He mumbled under his breath. It wasn’t out of the question, that the parasite had damaged the barriers. He’d attributed the Yule ball dream to pure exhaustion, but now he was rested things were not supposed to be this way._

_“Either he allies with her or all shell be lost.” The woman countered._

_The Old Man scoffed. “Thou hast underestimated her before, Hessia. I taught her everything I know.”_

_“Yet, she disappointed you.” The newly named Hessia said plainly._

_The Old Man remained silent, his eyes became shadowed, and he crossed his arms. “This one may disappoint as well.”_

_Harry watched the wrinkled face of the old warrior with unreasonable anger. It was a deep settled anger brought upon by a dream that shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did. He wanted to lash out like a child, but the cold wind seemed to cool his blood._

_“He is born of blood and his will is Iron.” She protested, lifting herself from the tree. “My Lady has had him watched for years, longer than you have been involved with her plan. She assured that-“_

_“Vengeance is his motivator.” The Old Man interrupted. “Once he slays the witch he will retreat from the world, to seek the peace he has been denied. What will thy lady do then?” The gold helmeted woman remained silent.  
_

_A white owl flew away into the night and the world crumbled as the memory/dream ended._

o0o0o0o0o

Harry’s eyes flew open the moment an Auror placed the key in the lock. He was unsurprised to spot Tonks, sporting a light purple shade in her hair and brown eyes, amongst the team of Aurors, nor was he surprised by Ronald, who looked like his owl had just died, but he was certainly not expecting to see a smirking Miranda Blake, who’s hair seemed shorter and in a darker shade of red than when he last saw her in Avalon, there with her hands in .

“Alright,” Tonks shouted at her team pointing at a resting Lennox. “Get the other one up.” Three wizards in black Auror uniforms moved towards the demigod with wands drawn. Lennox rose when they were a few feet away. His face was twisted in a scowl, his worn fists clenched and unclenched slowly, add that to his towering height and Harry could see why people thought him to be intimidating.

The three Aurors guided Lennox out of the cell quickly and quietly.

“Wotcher, Harry.”

The wizard’s attention turned to his new partner, purposely ignoring the two Ministry officers, standing to greet her with a polite smile. “Good evening, Agent Blake.”

“Good evening, Agent Black.” She greeted, handing back his satchel and his confiscated wand. “You gave the boss quite the fright when you didn’t come out of the alley.” And so it was revealed that he was still being watched.

Harry sighed but shook off any emotion that threatened to slip by his indifferent façade. “I was intercepted.” He said shooting Tonks and Weasley a look. “Any idea why Lockhart is wandering around London instead of strapped to a bed in the Janus Thickey ward?” He had been under impression that the Fraud was to be supervised at all times, do to his ‘accident’ in nineteen nighty three, and that the man was almost certainly never going to regain his memories. Yet, there he was, spouting the same nonsense he’d spouted during Harry’s second year.

His fellow agent cackled. “Why don’t you tell him Auror Tonks?” Miranda said in a slightly mocking tone that made the normally laidback Auror’s hair to turn into an angry shade of red

“About three months ago, the DFDL felt it best if her were placed under the care of Morgan Smith, a long time member of the Dark Force Defense League.” The metamorph glared at Miranda as she started on her rather short explanation. “Given his status in the Order of Merlin, the majority of the Wizengamot agreed that it would be beneficial to have Lockhart exposed to an equally competent wizard.”

“Competent…” Ronald scoffed, crossing his arms.

Miranda tilted her head slightly, matching Tonks’ glare with one of her own. “Don’t leave best part out.” She hissed out. Being the stubborn woman Harry knew Tonks to be, she remained quiet. “Fine, then allow me.” With he attention firmly on Harry, she began.

“With the Auror Department without a head, some members of the DMLE made a binding contract with DFDL to, in a way, create cause for arrest.” Agent Blake looked disgustedly at the Aurors around them. ‘Which is illegal according to Ministry’s charter.”

“Which would explain the reaction time.” Harry thought aloud. Tonks looked insulted.

“You can’t actually believe we had anything to do with that?” She asked Harry, her outrage was clearly noticeable in her voice.

“You?” He shook his head. “No, you don’t have a reason to come after me.” He then points to the unusually quiet Weasley. “But him? I’m sure he did.”

“Yeah?” Ronald puffed out his chest and took a step closer. “Why would I do that?” he asked.

“Because I embarrassed you in Gotham and wanted to get me back for it.” Harry said in a low voice. The green eyed wizard took a step in Weasley’s direction more than ready to square off. “You couldn’t stand being pushed to the shadows by Charles’ younger brother, so you got in contact with a Dark Force Defense League. “ He took a breath to study Ronald’s reddening face. The guilt was there hidden under layers of bravado and pride. Ronald was petty, he’d proven that during their fourth year when Dumbledore had drawn Harry’s name from the Goblet of Fire and had yelled ‘ _Potter’_ and Ron had glare at Charles with such intensity that he’d missed the Warlock yell _‘HARRY!”_ immediately afterword; the Yule Ball could be considered further evidence, mainly when he’d been particularly short with Granger for rejecting him and going with Victor Krum.

“You probably mentioned my history with the Tate Club,” Harry continued. “It’s common knowledge that the two groups despise each other.” It was a silly little rivalry that had bloomed into something far worse throughout the two centuries the clubs had existed.

The Tate Club was a cabal of powerful individuals, both magical and Muggle, who met for the betterment of England as a whole. They were Dark without a doubt, but somewhere in their coal black souls they were decent beings. The Dark Force Defense League on the other hand are magical rich men who’d been denied membership to the Tate Club and formed their own miserable hunting lounge. They filled their ranks with influential purebloods, boastful frauds, and on rare occasions a person of moderate amount of skill.

“And what exactly are you going to do about it?” Ronald said defiantly. Nymphadora blanched as the full weight of her partner’s muck up made itself apparent.  

Harry smiled at the second youngest Weasley. “Me? I’m not doing anything, but Granger will be hearing from my boss and you’ll be lucky if your suspension is the only thing she demands.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Not at all.” Miranda spoke up. “That’s a promise.” Ron looked at her, noticing the slight pressure emanating from the center of his chest where the tip of her twelve inch walnut wand was firmly rested upon him. “Now, take a step back, Auror Weasley.”

To Harry’s surprise, Ronald did as he was told. 

“Thank you, Agent Blake.”

“Not a problem, Agent Black.” She responded while holstering her wand. “Now, I believe that Auror Tonks mentioned some artifacts that were in your possession at the time of your _illegal_ arrest?” 

“Yes, heirlooms of my House that were being returned to me.” Not exactly a lie, nor was it the truth, but by the time the Aurors Department dealt with the storm the storm the Morrigan would undoubtedly dredge up they’d would be far too cautious to effectively challenge the claim. “I would like them back, Auror Tonks.”

“That may be a problem, Harry.” She tried to excuse. “While the knife is in our possession… the mirror is not.”

“Where exactly is it?” Harry asked in a low, clearly irritated voice..

“The Department of Mysteries.” Ronald informed with a hint of triumph in his otherwise defeated tone. “It became standard procedure under Minister Kingsley to hand all unidentified Dark Artifacts to he Department of Mysteries, there’s a even statute for it.”

“That statute also says that the Artifacts are to be handed over once the charges have been presented to the courts, and then they have to have guilty verdict.” Harry spat. “ Since I nor the charges have been presented to a court, you had no right to hand my property to anyone without my express permission!” 

The statute was put in place two years after Voldemort’s defeat at the Battle of Hogwarts in an effort to slow the Unspeakables access to potentially dangerous artifacts or heirlooms after a number of wealthy, yet innocent, wizards were arrested for having suspected affiliation with the Death Eater cause and never having their rarer artifacts returned after being acquitted.

This was imposed by the ICW after one of their own members a muggleborn named Reginald De la Rosa, head of the Ancient Histories Department, was arrested in his vacation home where he kept Atlantian artifacts. Chief among those artifacts was a scepter that Reginald had discovered on a small, unnamed island in the central Atlantic, he called it the Scepter of the Dead King. 

Like the Atlantis, the city was lost once it fell into the Unspeakables hands and with it any chance of knowing what really happened to the ancient civilization.

Needless to say the ICW and the DEO kicked up a storm looking for it. All of this happened before Harry joined the Department, but older agents still talk about it. 

Agent Blake put a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder holding him in place. “Inform your Minister that both Agent Black and I will be retrieving the stolen artifact, by force if need be.” With that Agent Blake led Harry past the two Aurors, making their way out of the DMLE’s detention area and onto a lift.

Harry had been fifteen years old when he’d last walked down the black marble hall that led to the Department of Mysteries. He had entered floor as a child and left it knowing the grief of men. The whispers of the Veil were now a chorus that Harry could hear from the elevator as they descended into the bowls of the ancient building, so much so that Harry could barely make out that Agent Blake was speaking to him. 

“Sorry?” 

“Just wondering what so important about your mirror.” She calmly reiterated. “I mean, I’m all for depriving those red cloaked bastards another piece of history but it be nice knowing what I’m risking my life for.” 

Harry looked at her for a second, straight into those strangely colored eyes, as if looking for something that he was certain he wouldn’t find. “As far as I can tell, it holds old magical knowledge.” That was enough information to get a determined look from the witch.

“Of course it is.” Miranda said glairing past him. “ Can’t let them keep it now.”

“No, we can’t.” Harry answered under his breath as the lift stopped and opened its copper door into the dimly lit hallway.

In unison Miranda and Harry exited the lift, each keeping to the nearest wall with wands brandished. They were halfway to the black metal door when they were met by three Unspeakables, in their long, vibrant red robes and black visor masks.

Two of them had their wands pointed at the two agents, while the third clutched a small, round mirror as if his life depended on it. Harry and Miranda kept their focuses firmly on the two individuals that had their wands pointed at them. It was a tense few moments before the one clutching the mirror spoke up.

 **“Minister Shacklebolt has ordered us to return this mirror, Lord Black.”** The voice was pitched in a way that Harry could not tell if it belonged to a man or a woman. “ **We would request that it be left here, for further studies.”**

Harry did not hesitate. “Not a chance in hell.”

 **“Disappointing.”** One of the Unspeakables said. There was another tense silence before the third Unspeakable placed the mirror carefully onto black marble floor and stepped away. **“You will hear from us soon, Lord Black.”**

Harry immediately summoned the mirror into his left hand and quickly inspected the mirror. To Harry’s relief the mirror was genuine. Satisfied Harry nodded at Miranda and the duo began to make their way back to the elevator, never once did they take their eyes off the Unspeakables.

o0o0o0o0o

By the time Harry finally arrived at Grimmuld Place it was one in the morning, but he wasn’t tired in the slightest but he was starving. So he made his way into the kitchen determined to find something simple to eat. As usual, the house was silent as the grave. It had been a home once but that was a long time ago.

Harry entered the dining hall and noted a large black box on the old wooden table where the Order of the Phoenix held their biweekly meetings after Voldemort’s resurrection. It was a rather fancy packaging from stores he only knew Daphne and Zatanna to frequent. Put the satchel down and picked the parcel off the table.

Attached to the bottom of the the box was a small note that simply read,

_‘Lord Black,_

_I write this note knowing that your house elf will deliver this promptly._

_Inside you will find prosper attire and a mask to preserve your anonymity. Fitted to your specifications, of course. You will also find a portkey that will take you to the event._

_Be sure to arrive before the witching hour._

_Forever in your service,_

_Etienne Guiborg’  
_

He placed the note on the table and opened the box. Inside there was a black tuxedo with a dark green shirt, a black tie, Oxfords, and silver cuffs. Harry looked over the cupboards noticed that most of them where empty. 

Deciding that it would take far too much time to search for something edible, he to change his clothes and prepare for an interesting night. Harry pulled out a black gas mask and placed it on his face before exiting the kitchen. He walked up the stairs and entered Orion’s former study, that Sirius had converted into a storage space, and searched for something he could use. Something sturdy and with enough stopping power to put down a mountain troll if need be.

He rummaged through the piles of garbage that the family had collected throughout the centuries. There were lamps, portraits, scrolls, parchment, sword, wands, and guns. There was green locket that felt particularly malevolent that he threw across the room into the darkest corner he could spot.

Oh, where there guns.

Hunting rifles that could pierce dragon hide, perfect for a man heading into the lions den. Harry wrapped his hand over the butt off a thick wooden elephant gun and inspected it for imperfections. It was in working condition and the shells were nearby he put one in the rifle and two in in his new pants. Next, he ran his wand across the length of rifle, transfiguring the rifle into a stylish wooden cane to match his expensive tux. 

It was heavy but he could at least it would be of use if things got out of hand.

Satisfied with his little trick, Harry descended down the stairs once more, intent on using the portkey and getting through the nightmare as soon as possible.

Harry checked the box once more and found a red bidding paddle with the number one on both sides.

He grabbed the paddle and disappeared into thin air as if he’d never been there.

o0o0o0o0o

Harry came out of the portkey in a dimly lit theater. He was standing in the center of a worn wooden stage, behind him was a white curtain stained in dried blood and torn in several places by what looked like claw marks, above the stage was a stone wolf head that stared ominously at the crowd. 

It took him a moment to realize where he was, Selene’s Moon Light theater. 

The Moon Light theater was a theater that for nearly three months had provide true horrors for the wizards who were brave enough to brave them, that was until November second eighteen ninety two when they attempted to do re-create the _Were-Wolf_ by Clemence Housman with an actual werewolf during the full moon. 

Needless to say it was a slaughter.

The stage lights dimmed allowing him to look into the empty seats. That’s when Harry saw the Dealer. He was a frail, short, hunched old man man walking with two white canes. He wore a breathing apparatus that covered the lower half of his face and accentuated his blind right eye and his vibrant blue left eye. 

“Greetings, Lord Black.” The Dealer’s voice echoed throughout the theater. “and welcome to the Mirror House.” 

o0o0o0o0o

 

A/N: Well that’s it for now hope you enjoyed. Please review and be sure to check out my other works.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter XI: Divinity (Part I)

"Once you realize what a joke everything is, being the Comedian is the only thing that makes sense."

\- The Comedian

o0o0o0o0o

They sat in across from each other in near total silence atop the stage on large gaudy chairs he'd seen in portraits of kings and queens, the speakers were playing La Vie En Rose preformed by Edith Piaf in the background, and between them was a simple black wooden table with two items placed on the edges of the table. Harry sat with his own transfigured cane on his lap, while his wand hand on its dark wooden grip. From this position he could freely aim his high caliber rifle freely in a hundred and eighty degree angle.

The object on his left was cracked pink crystal that was missing one small shard but he could still feel a trickle of power emanating from it and the other was an ancient horned helmet that was filled with holes where weapons had pierced the black iron.

Out of the two items, Harry was far more interested in significance of the helm than he was of the ruby he was sent to collect. It was clear that the Dealer was aware of things that he would rather have kept hidden. The thing that perturbed the wizard was the fact that this Dealer knew things he wasn't supposed to. Harry arched an eyebrow as his gaze drifted from the two gifts to the decrepit old man old man, who Harry could tell was smiling behind his clean white gas mask.

"Do you know my opinion on divinity, my lord?" The withered old man said with a flourish of his own cane. That was an odd question considering the two not so-subtle-threats on the laying on the table.

"No," He responded, locking his tired green eyes with Etienne Guiborg's deathly blue ones." I have not had the pleasure." Harry ever so slightly shifted the cane in the Dealer's direction while his left hand played with the vile of Dragon's Breath in his pocket.

"Interesting." He murmured. "I have heard thousands of scholars claim that what makes men and women divine amongst all creation is the species' ability for good. Isn't that remarkable? That good sets us apart from animals? Did they never witness acts of kindness when watching those base beasts? For five hundred years, I have watched humanity crawl and rip until there were no more kings, I've watched men pillage, rape, torture, immolate to the point that I believe, I have found the true aspect of our divinity." There was a pause as the Dealer shifted in his seat. Once comfortable, he rested his ivory walking on the arm of the chair. "Evil, Lord Black, has allowed us to shed our weaknesses and expand. Evil is not something you see amongst the birds and the bees. True malevolence, my lord, is truly the path of divinity. "

Harry chuckled.

He couldn't help it. There was always the possibility that this supposed gala was a trap, but the fact that Etienne was so blatantly declaring his violent intent felt like he was watching one of those morning cartoons that Dudley loved to watch on Saturdays.

"And let me guess, I, who stands in the way of malevolence, am insult to your way of thought and now that I am in your clutches you are in a position to eliminate me."

"No." The Dealer denied quickly. "Never would I dream about such treachery, my Lord. This action is to celebrate our houses' continued alliance. It has been so long since a lord of house Black has graced us with his presence." He stood and bowed his head. "I thought it important that you understood who you are dealing with, it would make me a poor ally if I lied to you from the beginning." The Dealer walked closer to Harry. "These items are gifts, Lord Black, and this night is meant to peel away the scales over your eyes." Etienne stopped next to the pink Ruby, lifted it up from the table, and offered it to the weary Lord Black. "So, let us begin with the gifts of our alliance."

"The first, as tradition dictates, is gift of strength." He said tilting a white gloved hand to wards the reddish stone. "Legends claim that that this stone came into being at the beginning of existence, an item belonging to a creature of pure cognition… a god of Dreams if you would allow me to be so bold." The Dealer then pushed the Ruby closer to Harry, who never let his eyes leave the ancient man's form. "A few years ago, it was discovered by a small town doctor and through means that no one quite understands the stone was fragmented, but you already know this my Lord so I shall not bore you with the details." Harry's eyes narrowed behind his mask but otherwise remained silent as he pick up the troublesome stone and pocketed it. He could practically feel the nasty smirk coming off of the white masked man.

"It will be interesting to see if you can bend its power to your whims or if it will lead you to an early grave." He said in an all too jovial tone, and then cleared his throat before tapping the tip of his cane against the cold metal helm. "This gift symbolizes a gift of power, though this helmet has lost the power that once belonged to it, its metal is invaluable. Black iron drawn from the corpse of billions of men, women, and children who have sacrificed their lives, and as you know my lord, there is power in death, even more so in sacrifice."

"There is no greater sacrifice than there is in War." Harry mumbled absent mindedly, his free hand summoning the cold iron artifact in his free hand. "My teacher told me that when I pledged myself to him."

The Dealer bowed his head slightly. "He has a way with honesty, my Lord." There was a pause before the grey-eyed man broke out into mad laughter. "Or should I say making us honest."

Harry clutched the dark wooden handle tighter. Harry knew that the man in front of him had a point, the Old Man was an expert at bringing out the best and the absolute worst in people., He who would forge strong men through blood, guts, and iron had no time for weak men.

"The third gift, Lord Black, is as much a gift for me as it for you. A gift of knowledge shared between us." With that said he slammed his cane against the worn wooden stage, signaling a man dressed in black to appear with two manila folders the folders were placed in the center of the wooden table.

"What kind of man are you, Lord Black?" The Dealer asked taking a seat. "What draws you into the dark places? Is it duty or is it something baser?" The questions prompted Harry to raise an eyebrow. "Vengeance, Lord Black." He said trying to clarify. "Are you spurred into action because of a need to protect or because you hunger for retribution? You need not answer with words, simply pick an envelope and make your choice."

Harry not entirely understanding the situation leaned forward onto the table, that was when he noticed the names on the folders, one he recognized from his conversation with Captain Dakkar the other he hadn't the slightest clue to whom it belonged to and by extension he hadn't the foggiest clue why it should affect him in any way.

The second folder read CAIN in bold, black letters.

o0o0o0o0o

Halfway across the ocean at the edges of Virginia farmland, between nowhere and oblivion there was a small plot of land that pretended to be a farm. On this plot of land there was a small wooden house that Zola had inherited from her father after his death.

Zola had hated growing up on the farm, away from the vibrant cities and life that seemed absent in her rural town. But there she was twenty four years later living in that same wooden house, growing the same old corn, and living in the same old town where nothing ever happened.

Or at least nothing used to happen, as she found out that particularly red dawn. Zola wasn't short by any standards, she was average size height at worse, and farm work kept her fit so she was confident in a fight, but when she was awoken at the ass crack of dawn by the sound of something scratching her wooden floor just outside her room, she threw one of her forgotten one night stand's shits over her bra and then she grabbed her Daddy's old twelve gage and went to investigate the source of the sound. She expected a raccoon or big cat but what she didn't expect was man so pale his skin looked sickly with birds talons for feet looking out from the house's front window. He dressed in brown rags with weird helmet that looked like a salad bowl lying on his head, but none of that really mattered to the irate woman with a gun.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?!" She shouted pumping her shotgun and leveling it at the bird person. The man did not flinch or turn instead he continued his watch as if she weren't pointing a gun at his head. She was about to shout at him again when he tensed and whispered something and turning to her. She noticed his inhuman blood red before she registered that he was moving towards her.

"Zola," he spoke with urgency. "we must leave, now." His voice was strong yet light and in any other scenario she may have enjoyed but at it stood it really just pissed her off.

"We?" She asked defiantly. "Make that you, mister, I don't know how you got in her but-"

"Listen to me girl!" The birdman interrupted. "They've come for you and your child."

Zola did not waver, she kept the gun trained just above his center mass and asked the question that she needed answered. "Who?"

"Assassins." He said moving to the door. "If we don't-"

"Get out of my house!" she shouted not believing a word he said. What would assassins want with a nobody like her?

"-you will die!"

In retrospect, Zola should have heard the approaching horses and not opened the door blindly trying to get the intruder out of her house, but at the time she hadn't expected that that same intruder was telling the truth but that became apparent when he pushed out of the way of three foot long arrow that pinned him against the wall.

She also did not take into account the possibility that half horse half human warriors would come crashing through her door wielding a mace and a fucking sword. It was luck that when they were right on top of her the bird man threw some kind of key at her and that she managed to catch it. the next thing Zola knew was that was covered in light before being sucked into some type of vortex.

A few minutes of that left her dizzy and more confused than she ever had been in her entire life. She twirled and twirled until she was unceremoniously deposited in a dimly lit room. The only light came from the window like doors that lead to the balcony and from there Zola could see the giant clock tower she'd seen in travel magazines. Turning around the blonde woman scanned for any clue of what was happening, instead she found a naked tan woman with thick dark hair sleeping in a large bed that looked to be just the right size for her.

Slowly Zola crept towards the bed unsure how she was going to explain it to the woman. Eventually she was close enough that she could touch her shoulder's but before she could the seemingly sleeping woman sprang into action, lifting her off her feet by the neck, with ease. Zola's eyes widened when she saw the woman's electric blue eyes and gorgeous face.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked Zola in a far too calm voice, in her panic Zola explained as best she could… which probably meant not well but it was enough for the woman to let her go. "How did you get in here?"

Zola, without a second of hesitation, showed the woman the strange key. The woman reacted with surprise but that was quickly masked with understanding.

"You are going to have to give me that." She said as soothingly as she could muster, but Zola wasn't having it.

She clutched the key to her chest and shook her head. The woman looked at her akin to amusement and walked towards the large wooden armoire. "What's your name?" The woman finally asked as she opened the wooden construct.

"Zola."

"Zola." The dark haired woman said learning her name. "My name is Diana." The doors of the armoire opened revealing a sword, an axe, a circlet, and shield. "I want to help you and I cam TAKE that key right out of your hand but I would prefer if you gave it to me willingly."

With that said the newly named Diana began to dress in a red, silver and blue unitard and the pieces finally fell into place for Zola.

"You're Wonder Woman!"She shouted in realization.

"Diana." She reaffirmed as she put on her metal bracelets. "Now give me the key."

o0o0o0o0o

"Take a look." The dealer said, as if encouraging a child to face his fear and take the leap. Harry slowly reached for the folder and pulled it towards him with the smallest sliver of hesitation.

For some reason, his heart was beating faster and he could feel the magic moving chaotically beneath his skin. He was clearly nervous and he did not know why. He understood that the Dealer had knowledge that few others were privy to but he couldn't for the life of him imagine how the contents of that file could possibly dissuade him from his mission…

That was until he opened it and a dozen pictures slipped out.

Harry sat in shock as he stared into those haunting blue of the monster he'd hunted for years. The pictures showed him torturing children, snapping the neck of a woman as a child no older than ten watched on, they went on and on, and with each one Harry's hatred for the once nameless man grew exponentially and it doubled when he reached the last picture.

His hands shook as he held that last horrifying photograph, it depicted Carolyn, her once lively eyes had lost their glimmer, she was held up by some type of meat hook, her skin was grey and her scarred body was bleeding from the abdomen, a horizontal cut was the source of the gore. Her hair was so long… Behind her stood Cain, his back was to the camera but Harry could see the trail of blood that pooled beneath his white boot.

With a spark, the photograph disintegrated into nothingness.

"What an interesting reaction, My lord, but it still doesn't tell me what kind of man you are " At this point Harry was positively shaking, he was tempted to transfigure his ca- 'walking stick' - into the elephant gun and demand all the information they had on that Monster, it was only the knowledge that this Dealer could prove useful in the future that stopped him from acting. "Are you a man of duty or are you a man of Vengeance? Make your choice."

o0o0o0o0o

A/N: Introducing Wonder Woman and Harry learns the name of the man he blames for the "death" of "Carolyn".

Sorry for the late chapter and for such a short on but things are kind of hectic right now and haven't really been inspired to write this chapter.

To answer ColdBlue's question:

1) Yes, there is a chance of Voldemort returning

2) Of course I have. Green Lantern sees a man of the law; Flash hasn't really interacted with him sufficiently to form an opinion; same with Superman; Cyborg sees the logic behind his actions; Diana sees a warrior

3) I can't tell you that would ruin the surprise but if you figure it out don't spill the beans.

4) You'll find out in the next few chapters.

Props to AngelDoctor for being the first reader to deduce the Old Man's identity.

Congratulations!

On another note, looking for a beta or betas to help me with editing my works. PM if your interested.

Currently working on something fun for DC/Vertigo fans. Sort of bringing Red X to the larger DC/Vertigo universe.

As always please review and check out my other works.

Happy trails!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter XII: Divinity (Part Two)

"Talking backwards

Because time will not go backwards

Because I will walk until I see an answer

Graffiti written backwards on the wall invisible

Because I am getting ahead…

Watch my dust.

The fear of the unknown.

We kill things we do not understand.

Here:

Talk backwards

Animate the dream

Here:

Talk backwards

Glamours mask the fear.

The need to get ahead, the burning need

(Watch my dust, my daughter,

watch my dust.)

I need more than illusion,

We do it with Mirrors,

Athanors,

And doves…"

-Giovanni Zatara. (Books of Maigic)

o0o0o0o0o

Harry would never consider himself to be a man who placed reason before emotion, it just wasn't in his nature. One had to in tune with themselves if they wanted to be moderately powerful Wizards. Magic fed on emotion, after all. Be it love or anger, serenity and passion id didn't rally matter except for those three nasty little spells that everyone and their mother seemed to know during Voldemort's war.

But this was different.

Harry felt genuine hatred for the man whose visage was scattered about on the small wooden table, next to the old man's blasted helmet, the cracked ruby, and the closed file with the name Ayesha written on it in bold black letters. His hatred was natural, who wouldn't loath the man who'd been responsible for ripping the love of your life away? but the anger, that toxic rage that seeped into his soul, that he'd pushed back into the dark corners of his mind had never gripped his heart so tightly as it did now.

He couldn't lie and say that he was in any way over what had happened to Carolyn. Not when that parasite had shown him a world where he had been truly happy with her as his wife and their sweet daughter. A piece of his very being died the day he lost her and given the chance he would have gone to the ends of Oblivion just to see her once more but even then he knew that she could never return to him… yet even with all this, Harry knew that it was not his rage that wanted him to spill Cain's blood.

The Old Man loved to play with his emotions, with a blink of his coal black eyes Harry would enter similar rages while in the dueling club, or he would make him lustful while chasing the snitch. His teacher called a test in control, Harry had thought it to be sadism but either way he had learned two very important thing that had saved him a few time when dealing with purebloods. The first was that he was a shit Occlumens with little hope of improvement; the second was how to distinguish when his emotions were being influenced by external factors and how to combat them.

The simplest method was by removing the object that was causing the turmoil from the immediate vicinity, which could be problematic in a situation where success tethered on his continued presence but not if one had a semi competent house elf to deal with it for you.

"KREACHER!" Harry shouted and with a loud crack the ancient monstrosity of house black appeared in his filthy rags.

"The filthy halfblood master called Kreacher?" He croaked looking around scornfully.

"I did." Harry said simply, gesturing at the helmet and the blood red stone. "Take the ruby to the library and place the helm over the fireplace."

The blighter sneered at Harry before doing as he was told. The Dealer chuckled as rested his head on his head on his hands. "Very good, my Lord. Now that the distractions our out of the way I would ask you to make your choice. It wouldn't do for the others to arrive only to wait for you to show us your character."

Harry's anger didn't abate after but he could think much more clearly that it wasn't causing his magic to flux sporadically. Harry slid his hand over the table and grabbed another photo. This one showed Cain standing over a crashed blue car, and in his hands was a boy of about twelve with black hair and brown eyes, it was raining heavily, the boy had a red shaped shard in his hands that he refused to let go of. This was the only photograph that showed half of the monster's face, Harry crushed it before letting it burn away in his hand.

Or at least that was what Harry made the Dealer see. What actually happened was something that he had learned from his friend John. The first tenant of being a magician: Misdirection. First, he made a show of crumpling the picture and then he started a small flame in the center of his palm. Harry had slid the photo up his sleeve while the Dealer's attention was captured by the flame.

Some of the best magic tricks need no magic at all.

The fire stung against his skin but he didn't let it show, he feared that any sign of weakness could be exploited within the bloodstained walls.

"I'll take the Ayesha file." Harry finally said though slightly grit teeth. The Dealer's shoulders slumped as if Harry had suddenly killed the mood with his choice but non the less the bald old man pushed the file towards harry with his white walking stick while with the other he summoned the same man that brought the gifts to pick up the scattered photographs and take away more information about the Cain than Harry could possibly collect in his life time.

"How disappointing." The Dealer said with a sigh once the table was clear of all distractions. "I was hoping to see more of your passion, my Lord. To at least pay witness to your hunt, but alas tis not to be…"

There it was.

The true motivation for this entire farce, it made perfect sense. Harry was known as a Hound in certain circles, impulsively tracking down his targets. What better way to prove his own blasted argument than exploiting his natural impulses? Sacrifice morality for an easier shot, had he been five years younger and had never been part of the DEO, Harry would have fallen for the Dealer's trap easily but that was before Azriel had killed his men, before he'd faced the Cheetah in heart of the Black Forest, and before his focus was set on John Dee.

"You gave me a name." Harry said in attempt to appease his host. "That will be enough."

The Dealer nodded his head slightly and stood up on his shaky legs. "Allow me to escort you to your seat, our guest should start arriving any moment now."

o0o0o0o0o

Charles Potter, Charlie to his friends, sat at the edge of the Black Lake and watched the sky. His red hair shifted slightly with the cool November wind, as the thestrals took late night flight. He dressed in in a red shirt and black pants that were now covered in but could easily be cleaned with the simplest of cleaning charm but at that moment that was the furthest thing from his conscious mind.

Charlie's thoughts were instead being consumed by his black haired twin, Harry. They had never been close but that was neither of their faults, had their parents not separated them on that fateful Halloween night, he was certain they would have been thick as thieves but sadly they did and they weren't keen on sharing their reasons for doing so with him. He knew that their earlier interactions hadn't been exactly civil but one could easily blame his youth for his brashness. He had been so excited to meet his brother that he never considered the possibility that they would be in rival houses.

So, he lashed out to his mother's great displeasure.

The years that followed were brutal on any attempt of reconciliation either side made.

In second year Harry joined Slytherin's Quidditch team as their seeker, Ron took it as a personal insult and on more than a few occasions tried to instigate violence with his brother because he knew that Snape would kick him off the team in a heartbeat if he broke the rules. Then came the Chamber of Secrets debacle where most of the school thought that Harry was the heir of Slytherin after Charlie spoke parseltongue. It got so bad that Dumbledore took him off the team to avoid a riot. His parents were there for Charlie but stayed away from Harry because of their guilt. He didn't blame them… who wouldn't feel guilty for abandoning their child.

Third year was no better. Harry had become colder and more withdrawn after the near constant bullying. He continued to play Quidditch but he was far more aggressive in his plays, nearly knocking poor Cho Chang of her broom on a few occasions. It had gotten to a point that Flitwick had assaingend him detention with Hagrid,,, on a full moon, which almost cost him his life and forced his parent and a very irate Sirius to come to Hogwarts and hash somethings out.

Sirius would have none of it. The moment he saw Lily and James near a panicked Harry, he nearly assaulted his father on sight. To say that he impolitely asked them to leave was the understatement of the century. His dad didn't make things any better by accusing Sirius of stealing his son, which only got them all shoved out by Poppy Pomfrey. But they continued their fight in the hall until the Headmaster himself had to intervene before wands were draw and curses cast. He had honestly never seen his father so mad up until that point.

Fourth year was very relaxed compared to the previous two, at least it was for him considering his brother had completely taken the spotlight after his name was selected by the Goblet of Fire. They didn't see each other much that year and they didn't speak at all but he seemed healthier than the year before so that was good enough for him. Things went horribly wrong at the end of the year with Voldemort's resurrection and the Ministry's slander tactics against the now official heir to House Black. Charlie knew that Harry wasn't being completely honest about what had occurred in that horrid graveyard but Charles had never discovered evidence disproving his narration of events as such he let dead dogs lie.

Fifth year was nightmare. The school was divided between people who believed Harry and those who thought he was just making it up so people would revere him like they did Charles. Harry ignored them instead continuing to disappear form the Marauder's map at odd hours during the day only to come back bruised and exhausted. Charlie thought that the bullies were after him again but as time went on he could see his brother grow stronger and much more fit. They built a bit of comradery that year but that was shattered with the assault on the Ministry, Sirius' death, and James's cruel words.

Charles still wondered why his brother was there at all… and if it was right to blame him for his godfather's death…

Lily offered Harry to stay with them during that summer only for him to reject the idea in its totality.

Six year was a mistake, Charles had long ago admitted that. He thought Harry was attempting to assassinate Dumbledore but who could blame him? Especially if when he was so distant of his own friends, Greengrass and Davis. The climax of his own paranoia ended with him attacking Harry in a bathroom, and Harry sending him to the hospital with wounds that took days to heal magically. Dumbledore wanted to place Harry in detention but a threat to pull funding from the school from Narcissa, the proxy of Lord Black aka Harry ended that discussion rather quickly much to his paranoid annoyance. Bridges were finally burned and lines in the sand were drawn that day.

Charlie didn't see Harry during his seventh year. Harry didn't attend Bill and Fleur's wedding, and at no point did Hermione, Ron, or thought of approaching Grimmauld Place out of fear that the Wards would kill them if they got too close. It wasn't until the final battle that Charlie had caught a glimpse of Harry. His face was bloody his clothes were torn but in his eyes Charles saw an energy that was only fueld by the purest of hate. The older twin was thankful in a way that he was dueling the Dark Lord and was not witness to his burning of Bellatrix, her scream still gave him nightmares and the charred corpse wasn't a pleasing sight eiher. Afterwards, Harry was whisked away by Bill, Minerva, and Poppy, not be seen until their twenty second birthday.

The only reason that he showed up at all to the Wizengamot was because his proxy was ill. He had dressed in a black suit, with an even darker coat, and what he heard Mister Weasley refer to as a newsboy cap. He sat in silence as they judged a bill that would force the Death Eater families into helping with funding the reconstruction efforts and he was responsible for its passing as many of the neutral families were eager to make alliances wit the mysterious lord.

Harry would then disappear for months at a time, supposedly working with the Muggle version of the Auror Corps. He ignored his family, which in raged Charles to no end instead devoting his energy to spending time with Greengrass and her daughter.

But through it all it was Ginny who pushed him to at least try to mend their nonexistent relationship, and with Gaby and the rest of the Delacours joining their voices to the choir, he couldn't refuse.

He understood them.

Ginny had lost a brother and was projecting her pain onto Charlie, especially when they heard the news that Lily was pregnant and they discovered Ginny's own. The pressure to do it was quickly mounting. He was at a point where he was unsure that he could handle this, which was why he was sitting by a freezing lake at such an ungodly hour.

Alone and at peace.

Or so he thought.

Faster than Charles could react, black tendrils of energy wrapped themselves around him, pinning his limbs to the ground as a thicker tendril wrapped around his mouth muffling its sound. Charles's eyes darted around searching for his attacker only to find more and more shadows forming around him. Quickly they began to cling to his body until only one panicked green eye remained exposed.

That was wen he saw them.

A man with a skull face dressed in white holding the limp form of a paled skinned girl with some sort of monstrous flower clinging to her chest.

"Good, my pet, you enact the will of Dee perfectly. " The man said caressing her cheek. "He will serve my purposes well."

And then he knew only darkness.

o0o0o0o0o

Harry watched the proceedings with boredom from his isolated theater box near the stage. Nothing the Dealer presented held any interest to him but the other patrons where absolutely foaming at the mouth for the useless junk. Crowbar that slew a Robin; Floyed Lawton's rifle that killed the prince of Bialya; Bane's Mask; The Ripper's butcher knife; Moriarty's monocle; Blood of the Moonchild. Nothing useful and nothing truly caught his attention except for his little opening speech but it was far to short for him to draw any enjoyment from it.

Harry was tired.

How else could he describe it? He was still recovering from his fight battle with Dee and there was no food to eat at this 'gala'. He wanted to sleep while he could so he could have enough energy to track down that bastard and hopefully save the girl but that wouldn't happen until the blasted event was over.

Time seemed to crawl until a woman entered his booth.

She was old, but strangely Harry couldn't particularly tell how old. Her hair was grey and white, and her face was thin and attractive in its own way which just spoke of the clear and obvious danger this woman was. Unlike everyone there, Harry included, she was the only one not wearing a mask.

Harry studied her carefully making not of every detail, even her all too familiar grey eyes and the lighting shaped scar beneath the left one. "Harry Black, What a pleasant surprise." She said with a certain amount of enthusiasm that pushed Harry further on the edge of his seat and made the grip on his cane tighten considerably. By her accent Harry placed her country of origin somewhere in Eastern Europe, Russian possibly, more than likely Czech. "You have no idea how long I have waited to meet you."

"You have me at a disadvantage, Ma'am." Harry stated curtly.

"You may call me Mother, Lord Black."

Harry tiled his head slightly but gestured towards the chair. Mother "I see that you remain unmarried, my Lord."

"Haven't met the right woman." Harry used that same excuse on Daphne's mother every time she made that observation. "There isn't much time for it being a man like me."

Mother sighed dreamily but nodded her agreement. "I suppose there isn't but that is no excuse, a man like you is deserving of a powerful legacy."

"And you can offer me this how?" Asked skeptically. He wasn't about to make deal with the biggest devil in the room but he could gather as much information as he could on her if he just kept her talking.

"Ah, that would be telling and I do not believe you trust me enough for such a big step." She replied with a devilish smile. "Maybe a gift is in order." She said gesturing onto the stage.

Harry's attention was drawn to the next item on the list, it was a heavy black iron sword, ornate but not to the point it lost functionality and whatever enchantments it had on it were in need of being retouched, even with in its current state the sword was easily identifiable.

After all it slew a king.

"Now this next item on our list is rather special, so special that we felt the need to bid for this sword prior to allowing any of you entrance. This blade once belonged to the bastard son of Morgana la Fey and the then king, it pierced the king's body and made it so not even the famed Emrys could heal him!" The Dealer lifted the blade from its display and brought it closer to the edge of the stage. "This Kingslayer holds a special connection to the land for it is a blade that executed one of England's greatest betrayals! I present to you the Coward's Blade, the one, the only Clarent!"

Harry's eyes widened beneath his mask but was otherwise unmoved. "You're telling me that you won that?"

"Of course." She said placing a hand on his tense arm. "Your patronage is very important to me and compared to that this is a small expense the sword will be at your home waiting for you." Mother stood up made to exit. "This is just one of the things I have to offer you, my Lord, I will be in contact." With that Harry was left alone once again but this time with a nagging feeling that he had just narrowly avoided Death.

o0o0o0o0o

The event had lasted another hour before letting them out.

Harry stood leaning at a the edge of Blackfriars bridge munching on the worst fish-n-chips he'd ever had the displeasure of consuming while the stone rails as a makeshift table. He was well aware that he has being watched by some bloke who thought he was being stealthy, but at that moment he couldn't bring himself to care.

It happened suddenly, one moment he was putting that god awful piece of whatever it was pretending to be fish in his mouth the next he was being grabbed from behind and tried to push him over, but Harry placed the tip of his atop of his attacker's foot "The Will Of Dee must be Fulfilled." He said in that all too familiar voice, which robbed Harry of any hesitation in following through with his plan.

"Finite." Harry whispered turning the wooden cane back into the antique Elephant rifle he had taken from the storeroom. Without his wand there wasn't much he could do to muffle the explosion that left a ringing in his ears, or contain the mess of what used to be his attacker's led.

Surprisingly there was no scream coming from behind but the arms did loosen their hold giving Harry ample opportunity to push what he presumed was John Dee off of him. Even more to his surprise was that his assailant was a man in his late twenties, looked nothing like Dee, instead reminding him of that guy that's in every movie… but that he can never quite place the name… not that it mattered considering the man was nothing more the a living corpse if the discoloration of his pupil's and skin were of any indication. "Variant of the inferi, perhaps?" No, too sophisticated. Possession? Much more likely especially if he were using some type of parasitic medium, like that fucking plant.

It didn't matter as the thrall seemed to disintegrate into a puddle of foul smelling black goo before evaporating.

"Strange." With that he made a mental note to add the event to Dee's file before scampering off towards the nearest station so he could finally get a good night's sleep.

The feeling that he was being watched never lessened.

o0o0o0o0o

A/N: So here's chapter twelve. Not very happy with it myself but after i lost the original when my hard drive died it is the best I could do.

 

For DC: Please check out my other story Once Upon a Time in Gotham.

Please review.

and Happy trails!


	13. Ego

Chapter XIII: Ego

 

_“During the long period of Mother’s illness, the house of ten seemed so vast, so confidently real that by comparison, I felt little more than a ghost haunting its corridors. Scarcely aware that anything could exist beyond those melancholy walls… until that night in 1901. When I caught a glimpse of that other world.”_

_-Amadeus Arkham ( A Serious House on Serious Earth)_

 

o0o0o0o0o 

_It started like most other dreams.  
_

_A sense of confusion enveloping his senses as the world around him became clearer and with it came a sense of weightlessness that was both pleasing and disconcerting. It was as if he was back in his body before the war had worn away his spirit and loss had shattered his soul. There was cold wind that guided him towards something akin to a beacon on the horizon.  
_

_It was a beautiful night, no clouds marred a starlit sky, the moon was full despite this phase had passed a week ago. None of the constellations were familiar to him… in fact they felt spectacularly alien to the wizard who had traveled the world. Harry looked down at the calm sea and saw in the reflection a white-feathered owl looking back with bright yellow eyes.  
_

_He could practically feel the wisdom behind the avian golden gaze. It was curious but the beacon on the horizon called his attention away before Harry could properly divine the meaning behind his dream form. It was then that he spotted an unnatural formation of clouds forming in the distance. They were unnaturally black, as if they were prepared to rain down pitch, not even the green lightning it produced could pierce the darkness. Freezing winds roared to life, like a pain filled scream that echoed in the deepest parts of him._

_Harry flew through the raging storm with unnatural ease. As he traversed to the heart of the sudden hurricane, noticed a large island that was saturated with eldritch magic and it seemed that the worst part of the storm was concentrated there.  
_

_It didn’t take long for Harry to deduct that the gathering storm was the will of a higher being and thanks the lighting and fury he had a pretty good idea which pantheon they belonged to. He had encountered his fair share of beings that declared themselves to be gods, only a handful of them had the power or the intellect to back up that claim but they existed and they were dangerous.  
_

_Others were more humble and their intentions easily read, like the Superman.  
_

_The being known as Zeus had appeared throughout history. His powers were awe inspiring, his rage was limitless, he was the closest thing to a true god humanity had encountered in its short existence. He was an unstoppable force that had, the best of Harry’s knowledge, was directly responsible for the destruction of Herpo the Foul’s short-lived empire.  
_

_The Island was a beautiful place, trees and vibrant flora grew freely, magical creatures that hadn’t been seen in nearly two hid in forests, and the scant few buildings seemed to grow out from nature… he would have almost called it paradise if not for the raging storm. It felt as if all the joy had left the island. The atmosphere felt mournful and full of regrets. There were nearly twenty funeral pyres lined up by the stormy beach, embers still burned despite the rain. The stench of death lingered as the island tried to heal.  
_

_Harry did not have time to ponder the events leading to the state of this magical land as the only extravagant building on the island grew steadily closer. Green lighting struck the side of the palace repeatedly and with greater and greater fury as time passed yet he didn’t stop.  
_

_The white feathered owl danced through the sky until perching himself on the highest balcony. Harry landed on the rail next to a tall, strong woman with flowing blonde hair. Her eyes were the color of a clear blue sky, but there was a sadness to them that had swallowed its light. She wore an iron forehead protector with a single star that casted a long shadow across her sullen face and leather armor that seemed to weigh her down far more than it was meant to.  
_

_‘There’s something familiar about her…”  
_

_“My Queen!” A dark skinned woman shouted as she rushed into the room, she was flanked by two fully armed women whose visages were hidden behind leather and plate, and faces behind bronze helmets not dissimilar to the one Hessia wore in her visits to the Forbidden Forest. “This storm, Hippolyta, its fury-“  
_

_Lightning flashed in the distance and thunder roared into being right behind it, cutting the warrior off. Queen Hippolyta sighed like a woman accepting her fate and looked up to the sky.  
_

_“Is like woman scorned.” Was her resigned answer.  
_

_Realization dawned on the warrior’s face, yet Harry just looked on questioningly. He knew the name Hippolyta, it was a name that came up regularly when Diana had traveled with in search of the mastermind behind the death of Timothy Hunter. Queen of the Amazons, ruler of Paradise Island, and Mother to the current Wonder Woman… yet she had somehow incurred the wrath of Hera? Goddess of Women? Had the world gone mad?  
_

_“Guards!” The nameless Amazon cried out but the Queen shook her head stopping her.  
_

_“No, Dessa.” Hippolyta said after a moment of silence. “Hera has good reason to make herself known on Paradise Island.” She stepped into the room and walked to wards the far wall that was covered in weapons. Without hesitation she grabbed a large two-handed battle axe. “While you and all our sisters do not. It is best for all if I face Hera alone… Queen to Queen.  
_

_Dessa wanted to argue but loyalty would not allow her to. She merely bowed her head and stepped away, unsure if she should pray to the Goddess that was coming after her Queen or calling for others to Hippolyta’s aid.  
_

_Hippolyta left her chambers and Harry fallowed unnoticed. He was curious to see what exactly she had done to warrant the wrath of a self-proclaimed goddess. The hallways were lit by torches dipped in oil and were carved from stones that pulsed with magic. The Queen’s steps echoed loudly as she made her way towards the courtyard.  
_

_Once there all of Harry’s attention was brought towards the immense magical force standing in the exact center of the muddy square. Hera stood naked under a bellowing cloak made out of vibrant, green and blue peacock feathers. Her face was hidden by shadow but Harry could see her eyes dart towards him momentarily before returning to Hippolyta.  
_

_Harry flew in circles around them as the tension mounted. The two queens stood two meters away from each other, like statues in a barren garden. In silence, the lack of action spoke louder than if the blades had clashed. Harry could feel a sense of betrayal coming from Hera and sadness coming Hippolyta.  
_

_“You have offended me.” Hera said coldly, her hands clenched and unclenched to stop herself from striking in anger.  
_

_The Amazonian Queen bowed her head and lowered her ax and said with the most sincerest voice Harry had ever heard: “That was never my intention, Goddess.”  
_

_“Respect? **NOW!?”** The Goddess scoffed, nearly ripping the hood off revealing a finely combed mane of fiery red hair, cold green eyes, and a face that belonged on marble. “Please, Hippolyta. After what you’ve done?!”   
_

_“I did it to protect my daughter.”  
_

**_“MY HUSBAND’S DAUGHTER!”_ ** _Hera shouted and the earth quaked. “ **MY HUSBAND!”** She took three steps, entering Hippolyta’s personal space. The goddess glared yet the Amazon continued look to the floor in shame. Tears threatened to fall from green eyes as all energy seeped away from Hera. “I am the Queen of the Gods, the Goddess of Women… and ultimately, I am a woman.”   
_

_Harry noted a mob of women surrounding the two queens. A few carried swords, others drew their bows, and others held spears. In their eyes Harry saw the love and loyalty they had for their queen… and the ability to sacrifice everything for her.  
_

_It was noble, if not ultimately futile.  
_

_Hera was near her husband when it came to temperament and power. They were lucky that Hera was so focused on their Queen too notice them. They would encircle the two figures, the few that carried shield were to be positioned near Hippolyta, they would die to ensure that she had a chance to escape, the rest would try to skewer Hera with arrows. Once that failed the warriors would attack with blades and spears…  
_

_The Old Man had made a point of teaching Harry how to counter Amazons and their stratagems. He called them archaic… obsolete. His grey bearded teacher demonstrated this by immobilizing Hessia during a sparring match…. then he had them fight until Harry couldn’t raise himself from the floor and even then it was only due to Hessia insistence that even magic had its limits.  
_

_“Your intentions…” Hera began again, her green eyes filled with a deep sense of sadness that was quickly hidden away. “I could care less. It follows a fact, and that is what angers me.” A sullen expression marred her statuesque features and lingered as she slowly walked closer. The atmosphere visibly changed as the overhead storm softened. “Why, Hippolyta? Why did you do this to me? To another woman? What did he say to make you love him? What can I do to make him…  
_

_The Goddess noticed them, not impressed by their obvious show of force. “We will protect our Queen with our dying breath.” With that, all the humanity on left Hera’s face as her cold fury returned with a vengeance. Harry turned his head and watched Hippolyta’s eyes cloud slightly._

_The Queen knew Hera, she knew of her wrath, her spite, and all she could do was focus it on her._

_All she could do was grovel. “They have disobeyed me.” The queen urged gaining the Goddess’ attention back onto her._

_…_

_It wouldn’t work._

_It wasn’t Hippolyta whom the Goddess was punishing and it was not Hippolyta who had to earn the Goddess’ forgiveness. As Shakespear once said: ‘The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.’_

_“You inspire loyalty.” Hera chuckled mirthlessly, her glare had returned in force. “You should be proud.”_

_Hippolyta shook her head and slowly fell to her knees. Her hands were surprisingly steady as she offered up the ax. Harry had assumed she had grabbed it in an effort to fight the Island’s attacker. To have chosen one’s own mode of execution… Hippolyta was much braver than any human had a right to be… or at least the way Harry’s mind portrayed her to be was noble beyond fault.  
_

_“That is the last thing I should be right now. My intentions…. They’ve stripped me bare. I have lost my daughter and your faith.” The goddess took the ax and inspected the weapon, while the Amazon continued to bow.” Queen Hera… my Goddess… forgive me.”_

_The Archers knocked their arrows and the warriors brandished their blades. For a tense second nothing happened. Hippolyta hung her waiting for judgment and Hera screamed while raising the battle ax. She was ready to strike until lightning ripped through the sky.  
_

_Harry was stunned to see Hera lowered the weapon and crouched to Hippolyta’s level and put her hand on the Amazon’s chin. For a moment, Harry thought that his dream would have a happy ending.  
_

_“My dear Hippolyta… “ Hera whispered. “I wish I could.”  
_

_Lightning flashed in front of Harry temporarily blinding him and when it came back his golden eyes widened in horror. Were the Amazons once stood a sea of green snakes slithered like ripping water and were the Hippolyta bowed there was a clay statue.  
_

_Hera’s green eyes locked on Harry and before even this magical owl could react, Hera lashed out. Severing the right wing with one well-placed blow._

_The shock of it woke him faster than the pain could register._

_o0o0o0o0o_

Harry jumped out from the small hard bed clutching his right shoulder and holding back a scream of pain. It burned worse than when basilisk poison coursed through his body during his excursion in Nepal all those years ago. He was terrified in way that he rarely was, so much so that he hesitated to look at the affected arm. He feared that it had been severed.

His entire body was shaking. 

There was no blood, which was a relief, yet he kept his eyes closed to avoid reality as long as he could. Eventually, the pain began to dull into a throb and soon after his arm fell numb. 

Briefly his mind wandered to the voice he heard coming from the shadows in the Avalon hotel.

**“It is _never_ just a dream, Harry Black.”**

Harry opened his green eyes and began to compose himself. His shirt was soaked in sweat, he was quick to remove it from his body. His numerous scars seemed to shine in the dim moonlight that came into the room from a portrait on the far wall. A quick tempus charm revealed it was nine at night, which meant that he’d slept a four hours in the last five days. 

His arm was still there, seemingly unharmed and healthy as ever… 

It had been a hellish week and he officially blamed John Dee for it. The man had been spotted once in Wales when entering the country but he had since disappeared. It was interesting to see a man who had no skill, no formal training from any of the magical schools, no indication of this kind of intelligence, no connection to smuggle him into the country. 

Nothing special in his criminal record until five years ago, when during a five year prison sentence for larceny where he volunteered for Project Morpheous, a machine named Materioptikon allowed scientist to study dreams, but something went wrong. Two days later, Penny Dee, John Dee’s ex-wife, was brought into a local hospital. She was suffering from nightmares were her ex-husband tortured her. She couldn’t handle it and six hours later her heart gave out. 

There were no records on how the Justice League learned about Dee, nor how they defeated him, but there was mention of an unnamed witch assisting them. This was before Zatana had truly stepped into her father’s shoes… before the Cult of the Cold Flame attempted to kill them all, and before Nick got it in his head that Zee, John, Harry were out to get him, which led to him betraying them to the Cult of the Cold Flame… if anything it was probably Georgina Snow sticking her posh nose into business that she did not completely understand.

Harry made a note of calling the sorceress later… when things began making sense again. 

The threat was marked down by A.R.GU.S as resolved, three years later a small diner in the heart of Colorado tore each other apart, magic was detected on the seven victims, no one made the connection till a few months ago when the Dream Ruby came onto the DEO’s radar.

Of course, all this research didn’t win him any points with his colleagues after the little stunt he pulled with the Mirror House. To say that the Morrigan was not pleased with him, over the fact that he’d gone to face the Mirror House without informing the DEO, was an understatement. The Crone was absolutely furious, she even threatened him with suspension should he ever attempted something so reckless while under her command. Miranda Blake, his new partner, was annoyed that she’d lost her chance to interrogate the Dealer, but was otherwise fine with the outcome of the incident. Bones was happy with the results, which took a bit f heat off him but not much.

He didn’t have time to search through the archive for the figure known a only to him as Cain, nor had he mention it to anyone else for fear that word would spread to the wrong ears and those who it reached would attempt to stop him. The Department would stop him, because it would be their duty to uphold the law. Heroes would jump into the fray because of their sense of justice. Charles would try to stop and so would his Order… they wouldn’t understand his reasons… they had gotten their vengeance… forgotten the anger that had spurred them into action against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. 

Harry rose from his bed with a yawn. 

There was nothing he could do while Dee was at large and with his goddaughter’s birthday coming closer… the pressure was undoubtedly mounting. With his the matter of his goddaughter he had asked for help from the only person he could trust with the matter, Luna Lovegood.

As such he’d written a letter to the odd blonde woman and was expecting to hear back soon. Luna could also help him decipher the reason behind the vision he just had. Harry hadn’t heard from Diana since their little multiversal hunt and they hadn’t parted on the best of terms. Watching the wrath of a so-called goddess didn’t exactly illuminate the purpose behind it. Of course, he understood why it happened.

It was story as old as time, Zeus cheats on Hera, child is born, and all hell breaks loose.

Diana must have known about her parentage. How else could she explain her awesome power? Lennox knew and he wasn’t the wisest demigod Harry had ever met… but then again Lennox was, in his words, ‘ _Told by the wind’_. Harry wasn’t’ exactly sure what that meant… 

Now, he understood importance of what he saw… just not why it was shown to him. Maybe it was a latent after effect from the Parasite.... or maybe it was just another vivid dream, like the one that he had while resting on Zee’s couch.

The one in which he was stabbed in the heart.

Either way, Harry left his room and slowly made his way down the winding stairs of Grimmauld Place. He skipped the sixth step from the top to avoid awakening Walburga’s wailing portrait, he nearly slipped because of the sudden drop but quick reflexes and quick muffling charm allowed him to grab the railing and avoid making too much noise. Once he reached the main floor, Harry made his way through the darkness towards the kitchen.

A proper meal would go a long way to improve his mood. 

He spent the last week drinking pepper-up potion after pepper-up potion to keep functioning until he nearly crashed, like Granger did in their third year. 

The house was a tomb. A pretty tomb that had once worn the mask of a home for the longest time… but it was a tomb none the less. It was empty and lifeless except for him, Kreacher, and the odd Boggart. Before the war had officially started Grimmauld Place was a hub of activity. People from all walks of life zoomed around in an attempt to combat the Dark Lord’s guerilla-style warfare. There was always a suspicious look in their eyes… except from Sirius, Dumbledore, Lily and ironically enough Nymphadora.

Now look at them now…

The first two were dead, the third had passed off too many chances and was seeking another one, and the fourth had attempted to entrap him.

Harry arrived in the main corridor and almost out of habit turned towards the heavy oak door with a small golden dial. It used to lead to the kitchen but once he had purchased that small island where he and Carolyn had decided to build a home, Harry had gotten Zee to help him connect the properties. The dial had four marks the one on the top led to the ruins of the small Tibetan town that Carolyn called home; The one on the left lead to the aforementioned island; the one on the right led to the House of Mystery, purely one way and only for an emergency, and the one on the bottom lead to his trophy room.

He kept the most dangerous artifacts he encountered in there. 

To get to the kitchen Harry had to pass though the sitting room. There were four ornate chairs around a small tea table which was currently covered by the rusted horned helm that had once belonged to the Old Man… for intimidation purposes… should Narcissa ever feel the need to bring members of the Wizengamot that needed convincing. Surprisingly, he found Kreacher was looming over it with a white rag violently trying clean it with a snarl on his ugly wrinkled face.

“Filthy Half-Blood Master, treating relics in such a filthy manner, the mistress would never stand for this…” The deranged House-Elf growled under his breath, worn hands were half raw from scrubbing and despite nearly every part of him wanting to order Kreacher to stop… he didn’t. There was a small part of him still held Kreacher responsible for Sirius’ death. “… Great Master Sirius’ mirror needs cleaning… yes… Filthy Half-Blood Master knows not how to treat relics of this house.”

Harry listened intently at the mumblings once he heard his beloved godfather’s name referred to so reverently… only to deduce that the little shite was talking about one of Sirius’ namesakes instead of the man himself.

The mirror that he was referring to was the gift that Harry had received from Clarice, the head Magician and Owner of the Tate Club. It was an old hand mirror made with a pure iron grip and silver runes. Had he been a betting man, Harry would wager that there was something particularly nasty lurking behind the actual mirror but luckily he wasn’t and he felt no particular need to find out… not yet at least. 

Shaking his head clear of his rambling thoughts, Harry continued onto the freshly stocked kitchen. The amount of foodstuffs on the shelves would last him a few good months, with right spells so the vegetables wouldn’t spoil. A quick wave of his wand summoned the necessary ingredients for a filling sandwich. By hand Harry cut a sausage link in half and threw it on a low heated skillet, he then cut a section of French loaf and waited for the sausage to cook. 

While waited Harry looked up at the window and spotted a most curious sight, an multi colored angel fish floating against the glass while tethered to a small envelope via string. Had Harry been in a less exhausted state of mind he would probably wonder if he’d finally gone past the deep end and into the colorful abyss no sane man should ever tread, but as such, he didn’t hesitate opening the window and letting the floating fish in.

The fish circled Harry for a good minute before the wizard reached out and grabbed the envelope hanging on long piece of string. With the same knife he had cut the sausage, he cut at its side allowing the contents to spill onto the old wooden table. In it was the latest issue of the Quibbler and a small yellow note. 

Harry hadn’t given the Quibbler much thought since joining the DEO, not because he had forgotten the tabloid but because he leaned enough through his job that he didn’t feel the need to follow the paper. ‘ _What’s that saying again? No news is good news?’  
_

Something like that…

He skimmed over the colorful cover with curiosity. There were scattered pictures of his brother in Auror uniform, along with several members of the Wizengamot’s dark faction. In bold yellow font was the tittle of the article: Charles Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, part of the Rotfang conspiracy?‘ It then went to claimed that Granger had more information on the subject.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle as if it were a little prank Luna was trying to pull. Harry knew for a fact that Charles had been making the rounds trying to gain enough votes to overturn one of Narcissa’s more controversial proposals. It was simply how the game was meant to be played. He had no interest playing, thus he gave Malfoy’s mother the job of representing his interest in front of mass of intrigue and corruption that had come to be known as the Wizengamot. Narcissa relished in the attention and the power she held as Proxy to Lord Black. 

Outside of blood purity, power was the only thing the so-called Dark Families respected. It was easy alliance to make, Narcissa needed to gain a position of power after Lucius and she dragged the Malfoy name through the mud by siding with Voldemort and Harry needed to get away from the world that had taken a dear friend from him. 

His green eyes flickered over to the small yellow note. It was definitely Luna’s handwriting, he could tell by the unique smooth lines 

_‘Follow the Fishy and come find me.’_

Harry traced his fingers over the words, while the small fish wrapped the string around his left index finger. For a moment, his mind was overtaken by color, laughter, undefinable shapes, dancing shadows, and schools of floating fishes. It was terrifying but at the same time wondrous. When he came back to himself he was in his sitting room dressed in a untucked, half-buttoned, black shirt, a pair of worn jeans, mismatched socks and a pair of brown boots he didn’t remember ever owning.  

The sausage was left cooling on an extinguished stove.

o0o0o0o0o 

There were few things that Harry shied away from, liches, dementors, deals involving John, anything that remotely smelled of the possibility in which John and Zatanna being in the same room, nifflers, and buying gifts. None of these things were easy to deal with but gifts were even more troublesome than all the previously mentioned creatures or events put together.

Now, the gift thing was due to his rather unorthodox upbringing courtesy of the Dursleys, which mostly translated into that Harry wasn’t very good at deciphering what people would enjoy let alone what would be safe in the hands of a magical toddler with too much energy for Daphne to handle. He spent much of his formative years in a cramped cupboard bellow the stairs… it showed at formal gatherings. 

That being said, Angelica was a little angel who deserved the best for her fourth birthday. Now the question was: Best of what?

Harry had developed a list of things to give his friends but they were all adults now and could handle the gifts he would give. John got cigarettes, Blackwood brand, hard to find, expensive when found… worth the trouble if one could handle them. Zee, much like Harry, hoarded artifacts, silver coins from the Ming Dynasty were her favorite. Lennox enjoyed a good bottle of Fire whiskey and the odd football ticket never went amiss. Daphne loved clothes, so he tended to buy her the most current fashion that the wizarding world had to offer… and still he didn’t know if she actually like them or if she was simply humoring him because declining a gift would be too impolite.

But Angelica was… special, not unlike Luna but different in so many ways. She was a pretty little thing, at least she was the last time he’d seen her, but a year was such a long time in the eyes of a child. Now, he was certain that as long as he didn’t give her sox, he would still be her favorite Godfather, but he had missed a year of her life, so, it was only fair that he bought her a gift that would figuratively blow her away… and perhaps literally in the case of Draco… if the posh bastard even thought of tinkering with it. 

Which was why he was following a floating fish on a string leading him to a hidden out of the way hole in the ground, called Janus that Luna had chosen as their meeting place.

When Harry said hole he meant hole. 

The paint was peeling, the hinges on the doors were rusted, the floor was moist with a mixture of beer, sweat, and other fluids, and the light were so dim that harry could only see the vibrant stage, illuminated with bright red, blue, and yellow lights . It used to be an abandoned warehouse before someone decided to turn it into a place where bands could rock out and people to lose themselves in the loudness of it all.

It was perfect place to have a drink and clear the mind… especially after the last few days. 

So, as Harry moved through the black shirted mass of men and women from all walks of life, he couldn’t help but smile at Ramones cover being blasted at full volume from the stage next to the bar. On his worst day, he wouldn’t even consider coming to a place like this, a pub like Time in a Bottle was way more his speed, but he could see the charm of it. The lost always had a knack of finding the lost and Luna Lovegood was undoubtedly lost in a world of her making.

_“Well the kids are all hopped up and ready to go_  
They're ready to go now they got their surfboards  
And they're going to the discotheque Au Go Go  
But she just couldn't stay she had to break away  
Well New York City really has is all oh yeah, oh yeah¡”

 

Harry made his way to the front of the crowed and nearly froze when he got there. While all the bodies thrashed about to the beat of the music, a familiar silhouette stood as still as a mountain holding cup just below her chin, while her other hand wrapped itself around her waist. Even though he could only see half her face, she looked just as beautiful as she had the last time he’d seen her all those months ago. 

She was dressed in black, to better blend with the crowed. Leather vest covered a sleeveless white tank-top, leather pants hugged her muscular legs, boots tied up the ensemble perfectly. He almost didn’t recognize Humanity’s own Wonder Woman, but after what happened in Germany he doubted if would ever forget her. 

Diana was one of the few members of the Justice League who’s relationship with Harry could be described as positive. That being said they hadn’t parted on the best of terms, with the wizard managing to put his foot in his mouth at the worst possible Morgana-be-dammed moment. 

As such, Harry contemplated melting back into the crowed and leaving the establishment before Luna could see him panicking like Weasley did when he asked Fleur to the Yule Ball. It would save his reputation but he felt it would be rather rude of him to simply disappear after he had asked for her help and the fish had dragged him there. 

It was short debate that Harry would sadly never resolve as deathly, purple arm wrapped itself around his neck and pulled the Wizard close to its owner’s chest. The moment his head was pressed with his captors ripped dress, Harry could feel the tremendous power bubbling wildly beneath gaunt flesh, it felt like hunger, cruelty, mischief, and suffering. 

It didn’t take Harry long to figure out that what the woman who was holding him was. It would have taken him longer had he not dreamed about would-be gods earlier in the night. 

It was then that the purpose behind said dream became painfully clear, it had been a warning… one that he clearly hadn’t headed. 

“Come drink with us, baby sister.” The sickly skinned goddess slurred at Diana’s statuesque form. Harry was of half a mind to pull out his ash and take his chances with ICW, but before he could follow through with his irrational thought the current Wonder Woman turned her head to glare at them. 

Her sky blue eyes were cold as she glared at the goddess before softening ever so slightly when they met his green. For a moment Harry swore that he saw happiness in those azure orbs, but that disappeared as her eyes flickered back onto the Goddess. 

“Release him, Strife.” Diana said warningly. “He has nothing to do with this.” 

“Oh, come on, baby sister, he seems like a fun ride.” Strife pouted, before grinning wickedly at Harry. “We can even take turns.” When Diana didn’t react to the suggestion Strife released Harry and pushed him back into the crowed. “C’mon, Diana. Can’t you see I’m trying to be nice?”

o0o0o0o0o 

“Trying.” Diana said sourly. She kept an eye on Harry as he retreated towards the bar and away from Strife and her twisted sense of humor. She couldn’t allow Strife to see a weakness she could exploit not after what had happened on Themyscira. She had cut too many ties in a short amount of time already and she now feared losing more because of her carelessness. “Yes you are.” 

Her relationship with Harry was a rather complicated one… more so than with Steve or Clark. There was a darkness about him that he projected to keep people away but there was softer side to him that she had seen glimpses of during their hunt for the Dark Angel. There was an attraction blooming between them but she was with Clark and he was an unknown. They parted with harsh words and cold glares… words that neither meant, shouted as result over an action both hated but knew was necessary. 

But seeing him again after months of separation stirred something within her. An emotion she was not used to feeling. She wondered what her mother would say about regret? Especially now that her deception had come to light during the most tragic time since the splitting of the Amazons. 

It was cruel thought and one she chastised herself for but she couldn’t help but think of it as she pushed Harry away from the forefront of her mind. 

For the first time in all her long life she could claim Hippolyta as mother in more than name yet now she could not bring herself to do it. Not after all the lies and deception on part of the Queen and those ‘sisters’ who had called her Clay. 

“We are family Diana.” Strife said pouring her a glass of champagne. “ And in our family there are two types of members: Those who are against you and those who are against you.” With a grin she handed her a glass, which she reluctantly took with her free hand. “So with that in mind… to family.” Clink of the glasses was almost enough motivation to dump the champagne on the goddess’s head, almost. 

o0o0o0o0o 

Harry was thankful when he finally found Luna seated at a table near the back alongside her red haired husband Rolf Scamander and a petit woman with mismatched eyes that seemed to switch colors by the second, but seemed to always settle back to one blue and the other green, and curly hair that seemed to float in air as if she were floating in water. Next to them was that same dog Harry saw Luna with before Lennox had unceremoniously picked him up and run away.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting.” Harry apologized as he reached the table. The young wizard moved to sit beside the unknown woman but his foot became caught up in something that nearly made him trip. Looking back he saw nothing. “Great, now I’m tripping over my own shadow.” He mumbled under his breath. 

**“N** _o_ Y **o** _U **D**_ i _d_ **N** ’t _,_ “ The strange girl spoke up and Harry swore he could see color forming with every uttered syllable. “y **O** _u_ **T** r _i_ **p** _P_ **e** D o _Ve_ **R** Mi _N_ **e.”**

Luna let a slight giggle while Rolf was too engulfed with the floating fish tethered to Harry’s left index finger to say anything. “Hello Harry.” Luna greeted with the familiar absent look in her eyes. “I made the list that you asked me for.” She pulled out a scroll of parchment from her Husband’s pants and slid it across the table. “Daphne will certainly be happy with these.” 

“Thank you, Luna.” He said honestly. He pocketed the list while Luna looked on expectantly. They sat in an awkward silence until Harry realize that she was waiting for something in return. 

" **W** _h_ aT' **s** tHe _N_ A **m** E o _F_ T **h** _E_ _W_ Or **D** _F_ o **R** tHE **p** ReCiSe mO _M_ Ent **w** _H_ eN yoU REaLizE tHAt YoU'Ve aCTuAlLy FOrGoTtEN HOw iT FeLt TO mAKe LOvE tO SoMEbOdY YOu rEaLly lIKEd a lONg TiMe aGo?" The girl asked Harry just as he was about to speak up about the look he had been receiving. It was the sincerity in the woman’s question that stopped Harry from giving her a scathing look, but it did earn her an odd one from Harry. 

“There isn’t one.” Harry said unsure of his answer. “At least not to my knowledge.” He quickly followed up once a saddened pout formed on her lips. “I’m Harry, by the way.” He greeted. 

“i KnOw.” She sighed out, annoyed. “DReAm dIdN’t kNoW EiThEr, BUt hE dOes KNoW YoU!”

There was something within the scarred wizard that seemed to react to the strange haired girl. It tugged at the corners of his heart and mind. It was almost painful but Harry soldiered on. It was an odd discomfort, it was not something physical… exactly. Perhaps describing it as an ache was inappropriate but nothing else came to mind.

Harry wasn’t sure what she meant so he decide to return his attention to a still staring Luna. “What do you want?” 

“I want to know what happened to Charlie, Harry.” Luna said airily. “No one is talking and neither Ginny nor Hermione have given me a honest answer. All I know is that Ginny is terrified of something, she doesn’t sleep anymore and it’s showing.” 

“You know that I don’t talk to them, Luna.” Harry said evenly ignoring the feeling that he was being accused of something he had no hand in. “And unless our paths cross, they are polite enough to return the favor.”

“Harry, you’re an agent that works directly with ICW. Charlie’s important and if you know something-“ 

“Are you accusing me of something, Mrs. Scamander?” Harry interrupted, his voice growing hard eyes becoming cold. Luna’s eyes widened when she realize that her questions were resoundingly accusatory. 

“No, but others will, Harry.” Luna warned. “Charlie’s missing and people know you don’t like each other.”

Harry didn’t let his defenses down despite Luna’s assurances. “And when they come to me I’ll tell them what I’m going to tell you, Luna: This is the first I have heard of it, it has nothing to do with the DEO, more and I am not my brother’s keeper. Now if you would excuse me, this is a waste of time.”

With that made to rise from the table but was stopped when a small hand belonging to Luna’s friend came to rest on his shoulder. Harry turned to look at the strange girl and all at once he felt himself become lost as delirium took hold of his conscious parts of his mind. It felt li euphoria and weightlessness but it also felt… confusion and madness chipping away at him. 

The ache reacted to the intruding presence within him until it became aggravating and then it seeped into his mounting frustration. 

“HoW mANy YoUs aRe WiTHin YoU?” The Strange Girl’s voice echoed through his skull. “sO MaNY yoUs… mOrE ThAn tHEre ArE HeRs OR HiMs.” She tried to explain gesturing to Luna and Rolf. “TOo mAnY… NoT eNoUgH… “ Confusion marred her face for a split second she, as if she lost her train of thought. She bit her lower lip and tried to blink it all away. “HaVE yOu EVeR SpEnT DaYS aND dAys MAkInG Up FlAvORs oF iCe cReAM tHaT nO oNe'S EveR eAtEn bEfOre? LIkE cHiCkeN aND TeLephONe icE cReAm?”

Her hand fell away as she turned her attention to her dark furred dog who released a high pitched whine. Simultaneously her influence on Harry evaporated and without missing a beat he continued on with his interrupted exit from the table. He untied the fish with his free hand before disappearing into the mass of dancing bodies. 

In his annoyance and hurry, Harry failed to notice the piercing gaze of a dark haired. woman in a pitch-black coat.. She twirled her crooked wand twice with left hand before switching it to her right and repeated the action. Her face rippled beneath the shadows yet none noticed. 

“Not yet.” She hissed under her breath. The Muggle that raised her had been a fan Henry Wadswoth Longfellow and if there was one thing that she had learned from the fool was that ‘ _Whom the gods would destroy they first drive mad’_ And she swore by her Mother’s grave that by this time next year Harry Potter would be driven over the brink of insanity. 

o0o0o0o0o

He was back on the same bridge, watching the black water flow soothingly, eating the same horrible fish and chips from that other night. He wasn’t proud of himself for walking out on Luna but he honestly didn’t expect that type of accusation from her.

Harry had extended an olive branch when he asked her for help. He expected a certain amount of trust shared between them and now he learned that that Charles was missing and they were going to try to pin it on him. It was how Charles and his friends thought, the most obvious party was always going to be the guilty party. They did it with Snape, though not without reason, and they would certainly do it to him given the chance. 

He wouldn’t though. 

He would write to Daphne and Narcissa first thing in the morning. They would help him get ahead of this before the Daily Prophet decided to start dragging his name through mud and sludge. 

A shadow began to creep slowly towards Harry, which was enough motivation for him to draw his wand and prepare to strike, but there was something off about it… it felt cautious instead of hostile as if it were trying to convey its lack of aggression. Harry casually took a look behind him and saw the one Amazon he had never expected to see again… especially after the Battle of Hogwarts. 

Hessia hadn’t changed at all. Even the scowl on her face hadn’t deepened, which honestly was baffling to Harry who had never seen the woman smile once in her short tenure as his teacher’s assistant. She was dressed in casual sports wear and she had worked up a decent bit of sweat but she dint look winded at all. 

“It’s strange to see you out of your armor, Hessia.” Harry greeted with a small smirk. 

There was a fondness in her eyes light green eyes but little else changed. “It is strange for me to see you off your back.” She answered back jokingly. Hessia looked him over and frowned at what she saw. “You’ve been in many battles since those days in the forest.” It sounded like a question yet a part of him knew she was stating a fact. 

“Couldn’t waste the skills you and the Old Man spent so long teaching me.” Harry responded returning his attention back into the dark waters… It wasn’t a lie, exactly… it was closer to an excuse than anything else, but how could he to an Amazon warrior and healer that he fought on for the memory of two dead women that were ripped away from him? Especially after she had guided him away from his current path once before? 

The only reason he had agreed to learn from the Old Man was because Bellatrix had killed Sirius and he was alone. Hessia stopped the Old Man when she saw him going too far… She was a calming presence, a great contrast to his teacher’s instigating nature. 

“You were never a good liar, Harry, and you haven’t been sleeping.” Both points were true yet he still squirmed under her gaze. He briefly wondered if this was what it felt like to suffer through a mother’s withering gaze. “Tell me what is bothering you so.” 

“New villain… or should I say old villain, just much more dangerous.” Harry answered dropping a chip onto the cardboard tray. “He’s hiding and the boss doesn’t want to give this maniac a shot at acting out his plans.” 

“And you don’t want to let you guard down either.” She summed up leaning against the railing. 

“I had a chance to stop him.” He admitted after a moment of silence. “But I was hurt and underestimated him. He got away and now he’s hiding in the shadows bidding his time.” 

“You did as he trained you to do…” She reasoned. Hessia paused for a moment as she shifted so her back was to the water and it rested against the cool stone rail. “What **we** trained to do. You charged through the breach without a second thought, to make your opponent believe that you were fearless and that your only goal was to end their lives. It is admirable that you took those lessons to heart but it is saddening to see the boy you were warped into the man you are” 

Harry went rigid, before letting the tension leave him with through a deep, calming breath. 

What could he say to that? 

The world had made him jagged and cold. He wasn’t like Charles. He didn’t have the enough friends to raise him up when he stumbled, or parents that were there to ease his woes, or even a war he could claim victory for. He was more familiar with loss than with sacrifice. 

As if detecting his discomfort Hessia steered the conversation into safer waters. They talked about small things. Inconsequential to the rest of the world but it was almost heart warming to him. Daphne wasn’t much of a talker and they weren’t nearly as close as they had once been, and even then they were never so intimate. 

He relished in their closeness. 

She spoke of her time in the Muggle world had opened a dojo near spitting distance from the Shard. Her difficulties adapting to new customs and her dealings with the DEO… ect. 

Harry hadn’t ever had a woman come as close to being a mother figure as Hessia, even though he highly doubted the Amazon viewed it that way. Dahlia Greengrass, Daphne’s doting mother, was a distant second, she was always too politically motivated for him to fully trust in her motivation. The Old Man had cured him of those notions by telling him exactly what happened to the Son’s of the Amazons. They were banished to the forges of Herphaestus to live on through eternity in servitude.       

Time slipped by and neither noticed until a small fishing vessel passed right under them and then they knew it was time to depart. 

As he walked away, Harry wonder why people only seemed to approach him whenever he was skulking on a bridge…. 

o0o0o0o0o 

Gods were meant to be worshipped and none other stood as tall as Dee. 

He was there when Merlin bound his deamon to that traitorous Knight Jason Blood, he had watched the Rot attempt to overtake the Green for nearly a millennia, all of this because neither Merlin nor that Dreamfucker had even come close to being able to be rid of him.

And now…

Now he had demon blood of his own and a vessel strong enough to carry contain all his tremendous power. It was fortunate that his little pet hadn’t damaged it too badly when they captured it near the magical lake filled with creatures straight out of the False Dream’s realm.  

Fortune smiled on him when his pet had detected the bubble concealing a castle and a small town.

He cared little for the peasants around the grounds, even less for the creatures that inhabited its forests, but there was something calling to him from within the castle. It was as if a piece of his long lost ruby was inviting him to his future seat of power, he would take it once he had regained his strength.

The protection around the great stone castle had a number of protections yet with his pet by his side the shadows themselves hid him from them. Once across they stumbled upon a man familiar to him yet so alien. He didn’t have the scars running across the side of his face nor did he smell the Dramfucker or any of his ilk on him like the other one did. 

He was easily subdued by Dee’s pet, which was a surprise considering it took a number of his Black Mercies to disable the other one. Originally, Dee intended to turn the wizard into a thrall and send him out searching for his Ruby, but once he tasted his power, once he had seen the wasted potential he knew that hi could get his revenge much more brutally if he were kept alive with his body and soul intact. 

“ **Soon.”** He murmured from his seat in a decrepit shack near the town by the castle. He smile behind his broken mask as he ran his fingers through the dark bluish locks of his pets short hair. “ **This land of magic will be mine once more and none will be able to stand against me.”**

His pet, still under the effects of her own Black Mercy, remained unmoving. So confidant was he that he on his control of her that Dee did not bother digging deeper than the shallowest part of her dream.

‘ ** _Arrogant.’_** A dark voice from a dark place growled from the depths of her soul. ‘ ** _You will cower before a true god when they release me from my cage.’_**

The Moonchild would complete his destiny.

His Servant would ensure it. 

The Dark beings Daughter would be a catalyst for it all and Dee would just be another tool for his ascent.

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Drums of War

Chapter XIV: The Drums of War

_"Listen: you can hear the screaming. Three children are trapped in an elevator with Bobby-Joe McCann. Harold Smith prowls the Dogs' Home, a tire iron clutched in his bloodied fist. Maude Carillon screams with laughter as flame devours the geriatric ward. Listen._

_Listen: you can hear sobbing. On the freeway helpless weeping comes from the crash-sculpture of twisted, blistered metal' burning rubber, shattered glass. In the streets of New York, a group of fundamentalists know that this is the Armageddon; and they are still here, trapped on the Earth._

_Listen to the anguish of the world in which the bad things are coming out of the dark places."_

-Dream of the Endless (the Sandman)

It starts with hunger.

It's unlike anything he's ever felt before. He knews that it's not his but he allowed it to fester until it became unbearable. He cradled the unnaturally cold body in his arms as if his own life depended on it. He's bleeding all over her but he's far too numb to care.

A scream escapes him. Its inhuman… almost animalistic. It's filled with sorrow… that's his.

It shakes the dungeon and scares those useless sacks of meat whom stood around as an innocent, scared, and kind girl was butchered right before their very eyes and did nothing.

He rushes past the mass of bodies. Some try to stop him, out of sense of guilt, others out of a sense of duty to aid those who murdered the sweet, kind girl. He moves through them like a beast on the hunt. No one notices the flicker of energy under his robes. All the while a being of immense power hidden under the visage of an old man watch with mirth from the darkness.

It is like magic but it did not not belong to humans… it did not belong to this Earth. It cracks his skin with forbidden power and shatters his mind until all that remains is all consuming hunger vengeance.

He reaches the battlefield and ignores the carnage around him until his eyes focus on the one who slew his beloved friend. The woman is the picture of madness. A woman with thick, shining dark hair, long eyelashes and heavily hooded eyes stood over a purple haired woman who was spasming violently as a cruel curse ripped through her.

In a moment of anger he charged once more. His left hand rose, not the one that clutched his wand, no it wouldn't due for things to be that easy.

Dark magic pooled in that left hand searing strange symbol that resembled a misshapen S with two small marks on within the curves. It glowed an eerie shade of red that was invisible to those not seeking that which is hidden.

It was then that he muttered the spell…

…And the Dark witch burned.

A mother cried for her son but in his anger he ignored her. Instead, choosing to stand atop the ashes as blood trickled down one side of his face.

All of this Zatanna saw in her search for answers and she regretted it the moment she did. To be fair she hadn't intended to view these dark memories when she preformed the enchantment. She was simply looking for answers as to why Dee had singled Harry out. She hadn't found out why, but she had caught glimpses of his life from the confines of the Void.

Few were so horrible that they merited a shudder from the experienced magician but they were present. There were empty spaces in his life story that made Zatanna question what she knew about her dear friend, like the source of the power surges that happened sporadically in his youth and what happened after he left the school.

What Zatanna had witnessed was different than any kind of possession she had encountered. It was unlike the unfortunate case of June Moone and Enchantress.

The Succubus had latched onto unlucky mortal women who found her totem throughout history. According to the writings of Abraxas Malfoy the First, whom recorded the many possessions of Enchantress during the Seventeenth century Veela revolts in southern France, the spirit would periodically reveal itself, completely taking control of the host, and unleashing chaos. Enchantress released miasma of insanity that turned creatures around her into unwilling thralls that would rip and tear victims apart. Abraxas used his book to carefully mark the symptoms of possession.

It was a good book, Zatanna had to admit, it made reference to other being known to make use of possession like the demons Belial and Etrigan, Neither of them resembled the worrying case of Harry Black.

While it was clear that in those moments of true rage the Wizard was being influenced by outside forces, Zatanna did not sense that the essence was a separate being which was puzzling.

Too puzzling and in times where monsters like Dee preyed upon the innocent… Zatanna could not afford such luxury.

The problem was that Zatanna trusted and for Harry far too much to betray him to the Justice League without being able to understand his condition or at least determining if he was still a threat to those around him.

The dark haired Magician sighed in frustration as she came out of her meditative pose. The Void showed the past with resistance but when it came to the future it was like throwing herself into a whirlwind of daggers.

She had seen looked into the future and it had looked back. It told her to mind her own busyness, but she had seen enough to know that the Earth was entering a time of terrible danger. A time when they would encounter wickedness, great and terrible wickedness.

Soon, Zatanna feared, the world would have no place for the innocent. Evil was coming, Dee was just the Vanguard, and somehow, someway, Harry was going to be in the middle of it.

But as sure as she was that her friend was in greater danger than ever before… the problem was if the

Outside her window, across the street, and atop the adjacent building was a single solitary raven amongst a flock of dead pigeons. It was, like most other ravens, black but it had no plumage, instead it was covered in black energy that oozed off its back like tar. It had four sinister red-eyes, two on each side of its head. It watched Zatanna like a hawk, softly influencing her connection to the Void.

Its mission was a success.

With its purpose complete it dissolves into nearby shadows.

o0o0o0o0o

In a private room within The Palazzo three demons, well four if Jason Blood was to be included with their ilk, and John Constantine are playing a game of poker for a treasure that none but the Cursed Knight could truly understand.

The creatures are grotesque by every definition of the word, their skin is grey, rough and covered in jagged edges that would cut through skin if one stepped too closely. Their horns were broken and misshapen things, a symbol that they had been made servants to inferior humans.

The tallest was the ugliest of the lot. His face a broken mess of exposed muscle and charred skin. The shortest was a round ball of lard who eyed the humans as if they were a delicious snack. The middle one was the least frightening in appearance but John suspected that was an attempt at making them lower their guard before slaughtering them.

Now, John despite the hellish trek around the world, trying to stop Mr. E from stealing his soul and that crazy bitch Sargon from killing anymore of his friends, looked no worse for wear since he'd last had a drink with his dear friend… which meant that he reeked of alcohol and day old cigarettes, and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.

Despite all this his brown trench coat was in perfect conditions.

John gave a sideways glance at the only other humanoid in the room and studied the impassive expression on the man's face. Jason Blood wasn't the type of man to gamble, he used to be a knight with a seat at the round table with King Arthur himself until Morgana la Fay seduced him and Merlin cursed him for his betrayal.

He donned a fine tailored dark green jacket, a pair of cream-colored pants, and newly polished Oxfords. His scarlet hair was stylized in a ponytail that accentuated the streak of silver hair that divided it straight down the middle.

The cards were favoring him but the Hellblazer knew just how tricky those gluttonous bastards from the third circle were. They'd proven it by pulling a full house out of their asses and claiming that they were playing fair.

"Bullocks!" John scoffed as he threw his cards on the table. "In what plane of existence does four of a kind lose?"

"Too, too, bad." The shortest of the lot snickered. "Con-stan-tine!"

"Have you gained weight?" The fat one said appraisingly, licking his lips. "It looks good on you."

Feeling that things weren't going to go his way without a little back up John turned to the former Arthurian Knight. "What say you let your soul mate play a few hands, Jason? Maybe he'd change my luck." It came out a s jest but the message was sent. ' _Be ready for trouble'_ "He'd definitely be less mopey than you." "John Constantine, the man who perfected the bad idea." It was clear that Jason knew about the escalating danger but he preferred not to involve Etrigan unless he absolutely had to. "The only reason I came to this dung heap of a casino is to find a relic to keep that monster locked away forever." "Boys, boys! You're boring me. Let's play, shall we?" The tallest Demon said as he shuffled the cards once more and with a flick of his hands dealt the cards. "My luck's running as hot as me naughty bits." But he looked up at a hanging clock on the far wall. The demon shook his head as the only indicator that he was disappointed. "Oh, but our next group of friends is due to arrive, so it's time to bust you out." "Copperfield's coming." The middle one chimed in. "Presto Changeo! Woman in a box. In a box." "Yeah, he's classy, unlike you." The fat one joined with a snicker. "Are they implying David Copperfield, television magician, has true power?" Jason asked John skeptically. "Owns a chain of islands and dated Claudia Schiffer. What do you think?" John replied off handedly, beneath the table he was drawing a magic canceling rune under the wooded surface. John knew that the demons had been cheating and it was tie to make em pay. "No cards for me, and... Oh, looks like you can't call my bet, Constantine. By my rules, you lose." His voice was mocking and John wouldn't stand for it. So, he did the only thing that would guarantee the best pay off. He went all in. "I raise." He stated with confidence. "With what? Your ratty soul ain't worth two bits." "Not two bits." "I'm betting the House." He said with an overly dramatic voice. No one could say that he wasn't a showman. "The House of Mystery." Said house materialized just outside the room. It floated menacingly in the night sky, its wooden exterior doing nothing to dissuade the sense of intimidation that it projected. "And since I'm including everything inside, it looks like you're the one that can't call, Abnegazar." "Well, what do you say, boys?" The head deamon asked his companions. "I like the action." The fat one growled. Nodding between them, the three interlocked their arms and began chanting in their horrid black speech. From between them a spike chest materialized as the stink of sulfur arose. "I call." The tall demon said with confidence. "Really? A chipped dreamstone? Broken knick-knacks for the house of mystery and its contents? Are you mad?" It wasn't a convincing scoff but it was enough to fool the group of half wits. The tallest growled and began naming some of the relics within the chest. "I've got a working soul catcher. That's Ogid's eye spiker, eh? And the Garazi. So even if that very magical dreamstone doesn't work, it's still a big-ass Ruby." The demon waved off expecting John to jump at the chance. Constantine pretended to way his options. He examined the ruby and noticed just how Jason's eyes lingered on the stone before dropping his cards and dropping out. "I'm out."

"I'd be a poor sport indeed if I didn't accept your fair wager."

John threw his cards on the table. The demon laughed as he revealed his own cards. A straight flush, before the magic of the rune revealed the truth.

"Hell. Now, that's a losing hand for the ages. Now, read them and..." Dead eyes drifted to his cards before widening in shock. "What?" John said summunig the chest towards him, dreamstone and all. "Do they have an eye doctor in hell? I'd make an appointment if I was you." "You cheated!" The demon roared slamming his hands on the table, splintering the wood. "Technically, we both cheated. I just did it better. I'll rip your bloody heart out! While the individual prepared to fight, something dastardly was afoot just outside the window. No one noticed a four-eyed raven fly past the House of Mystery and split in two. One dissolved once its eyes focused on the fractured piece of the stone it relayed the information to its master… the other melted in the shadows that lingered by the entryway. Things quickly devolved, an ancient demon walked the earth, blood would be spilled and within the chaos Destiny's victory was assured.

o0o0o0o0o

_Harry sat perched on a nearby branch in the form of a snowy white. He gyrated his avian head to look around and was actually surprised to find himself on the grounds of Hogwarts. A battle had been fought days ago and some dead had yet to be reclaimed._

_A younger Harry sat alone under the crooked tree by the Black Lake. Half his face was bandaged and his chest was covered in deep circular bruises. His emerald eyes were hollow and his body was limp, any passing stranger would be convinced that he was just another corpse left over from the battle._

_The sun was high yet he felt no warmth._

_To this poor grieving Harry all the goodness and color in the world had left when Tracy Davis lost her life._

_This was not a dream… nor was this a memory… this was something else entirely._

_The Old Man stepped out of the shade dressed in in cream colored, bloodstained safari costume with an elephant gun strapped to his back with a worn leather strap. He looked much older than Harry remembered him, his red beard was now almost completely white wit with a few grey hairs lingering stubbornly. His black eyes looked darker than they had been before as bags formed around the, He was no longer muscular instead he looked like Harry had before the Old Man and Hessia had got him into shape._

_He was a stick and didn't look like he could lift a sword let alone the heavy rifle._

_"It has been a long time, my student." A tired voice greeted gravelly. "I fear too much has past but there are things you need to know if you are to survive."_

_Harry let out an angry bark but it was the body bellow that spoke up._

_"The end of the world could have passed and still it wouldn't be long enough, Old Man."_

_The Old Man let out a ragged laugh that nearly knocked the bird from its tree. "Twas a fair jab but this not a time for jests" The Old Man sobered quickly though which Harry could appreciate. "The balance of the world is changing and danger grows with each passing day. The Creeping Chaos draws his strength to break through the barriers that protect the world… " He paused as if waiting for the Warlock to say something but Harry remained silent. His unblinking yellow owl eye bored holes into the ancient being's black holes. "You stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment, my student and when it comes do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you will fall or you will fly. "_

_"What does that have to do with me? As strong as you made me you never were able to make me more than a mortal man." He questioned, tilting his head. "Shouldn't you tell Diana or Superman? Surely they are more capable of dealings with these types of threats?"_

_"I've witnessed mortal men slay gods before, Harry." The Old Man growled, he drew his rifle and cocked it. "I have seen worlds crumble, fed from their conflict, and became corrupted by it. It was a man who brought me back and it was man who taught me the value of peace. I was fool playing king and he brought me back with nothing else than words and magic. Because when everything else is lost there will always be magic"_

_"And a mortal man is supposed stop a creature composed of madness and evil?"_

_The Old Man looked saddened for an instant before it was replaced by anger. "Do you remember the first time I approached you after your godfather's death? The words I spoke? The offer I made?" He did not wait for Harry to speak. The Old Man took aim with his rifle and shouted with all his might. "I be the settler of dispute. I be_ _**Blood** _ _! I_ _**be Guts! I Be IRON!"** _ _The gun fired with such speed and intensity that Harry had no time to move as the bullet flew towards his avian form. "_ _**I BE WAR!"** _

_In the split second that followed Harry reflected on his miserable life. Looking back he could only find one true regret and that was that he would no live to see the woman his goddaughter would grow into. The moment he would miss and the pain his impending death would leave on his closest friends._

_But he was sure that they would do the only thing he truly felt he was incapable of doing: moving on._

_But when he closed his owl eyes the pullet flew past him. The air displacement forced him off the branch and made him fly. Just as the realization that he was alive registered another bird that Harry hadn't seen plummeted to the cold woodland floor. Its body was intact but its head was completely blown off._

_"In all the millennia that I have walked on this Earth, I never had much of a liking for spies. Their treacherous ways usually prolong conflict than resolve it." Old Man War lowered the gun and walked towards the corpse with dagger in hand. He gutted the black bird with practiced precision and removed a tiny black stone from its stomach. "I trained you, Harry because there was more potential in you than any other mortal I had encountered, the sheer aptitude for destruction you showed me asserted that you had to be tempered before you snapped under the strain._

_"Though me you learned what it meant to be Warlocked. Through me you learned that creation could be as an effective weapon as decimation. Through me you learned that a warrior should not blindly accept what is in front of him. Do you truly believe I would waste my time if you would amount to nothing? No, you passed were Diana failed. You understood that there was no place for compassion on the battlefield. But when the king of snakes slew you something within you awoke that even I could not see-"_

_It was there that Harry laughed at the obscurity that the frail old man was saying._

_"Slew me?" He laughed. "Are you daft? I still breath and bleed. No necromancy has touched my body, no phylactery holds my soul, and no true black magic has touched my mind. I have know the death of others but never my own."_

_War chuckled mirthlessly at Harry's bold proclamation. "Boy, your soul is split and with it your magic. Only one thing does that and that one thing is death. Isn't there a period in your life where your memories are not clear? Tell me how you survived against when the basilisk sunk its fangs into your arm? Do you believe a phoenix swooped into the Tibetan cavern as its venom blackened your veins? No, boy, your corpse was dipped in the in the resurrection pools but that was just one of the things lead to your present condition."_

_Harry remained silent as he contemplated his former teacher's words but the only witness to that particular event was long dead. Carolyn had tended to his wounds with plants and flowers that Harry couldn't remember. She'd taken him to her home in the mountains… isolated from the rest of the world and aided his recovery. At the time Harry did not question Carolyn out of gratitude and eventually out of love but now when things seemed to be hinging on his understanding of his own past he wished he'd gotten them when he could._

_"Tis troubling when one's own memory works against them but do not despair. You have time to find the answers you seek… if you don't dally. But for the time this will help guide the way." War flung the red stone at the owl. With a claw Harry snatched it from the air and disappeared from the dreaming world. War's face dropped slightly as he looked down at the dead raven he'd just killed._

_It wasn't a natural citizen of the Dreaming, War knew this because the Endless would have certainly made an appearance if War had killed one of his little pets. No, this creature was probably an agent for the upstart who thinks he can kill a Disciple of War. Even in his weakened state Harry could destroy Dee but only if he remembers his training._

_The Old Man once again cursed his sister for dragging the boy into affairs that should be left to gods but then again it was necessary to bring Olympus back to its former glory. With Zeus gone any number of beings could destroy the Earth._

_War cursed under his breath as a wave of exhaustion wracked his body. He needed sleep, he hadn't been able to rested well in the last two centuries. Since the nineteenth century Humanity has been at constant war with each other. With Zeus missing the conflict would spread amongst his kin, weakening him further as he is not able to reap his power until one side was victorious._

_The fate of the gods had always rested in Humanity's hands, few saw it this way but some did. The world would be ruled by war… it was inevitable._

_o0o0o0o0o_

When Harry opened his eyes he was in the passenger seat of a black jaguar that was trailing behind an armored transport vehicle traversing rural west Oxfordshire. He looked at the driver and was relieved to see that it was his new partner, Miranda Blake and not some nameless kidnapper that had gotten to Harry because he was asleep. The Warlock opened his hand and to his surprise the red pebble was there shining under the moonlight.

"Get ready, Agent Black." She said as the armored transport vehicle slowed. "We're almost there."

Slowly as his head cleared he remembered the purpose behind the expedition. Harry and Miranda were following a lead on John Dee. The bastard had stepped out of the shadows and had been spotted near the small town of Rowlinton.

Now Harry personally had never been to Rowlington but the crazy witch that had helped Harry when he was a kid hiding from his cousin never shut up about the place. She told him that she kept her heart there before whispering that she had left it guarded by a dozen dragons. At the time Harry had thought completely bonkers and now the sentiment remained. It was a small town with less than a thousand people as its population.

As they drove closer to the town something began feeling off. The only light sources they could see were the odd street light. None of the houses had lights that could be seen from the windows. Five minutes of driving passed before they were forced to stop. The APC's breaks screeched just as they reached the town square and the Jaguar followed instantly. As per DEO protocol the enforcers were allowed to take point and would radio them once the area was secured.

Harry hated that particular rue because it limited their first strike capability. Sure there were wizards within the Enforcers ranks but they were few and far between. That branch was practically handled by Muggles, not that he had a problem with Muggle strike teams but a well placed bombarda could save a whole lot of people.

The Warlock and the Witch sat in silence for the next ten menutes before they were allowed to exit the vehicle.

"What is the situation, captain?" Miranda asked as they exited her car.

"They're dead, Ma'am." The captain responded with a sorrow filled voice. "Every last man and women."

An unknown amount of time passed before either of the agents were able to speak up again. They had received the call about a suspicious looking man lurking about just a few hours ago and now they were all dead. The first good lead since Harry engage Dee in New York and it had been a fucking slaughter,

"How?" Harry finally asked, his calm voice hiding his absolute fury.

"There are no obvious wounds on the victims only slight discoloration." The captain explained as best he could. "We need to establish quarantine protocols incase it can spread but, but our scanners have determined that whatever did this was not viral in nature. Poison is our next likely culprit but we wont be able to teel that until the bodies have been examined." The uniformed man looked over his shoulder for a second before shrugging. "Magic is a possibility but we haven't seen anything quite like this."

"Miranda." Harry turned towards his partner. "I'm going to have to alert the Ministry."

"After you call the Morrigan." She pointed out quickly. "She won't like it if she's caught off guard."

She was right of course but before he could voice his appreciation a disturbing thought entered his mind. "What about the children?"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"What about the children?" He repeated more intently. "You said 'Men and Women' but you never said anything about the children." When it came to magic, children were the Holy Grail for rituals. Blood of the innocent was a powerful catalyst, the thrall at Dee's side was a child no oldr than fifteen

"Oh, God." Miranda muttered. It was a strange expression for witch to make but Harry thought nothing of it. In such extreme situations one could not fault others for turning to religion in an effort to cope. "Captain, insure that there's an inquiry on whether there are children amongst the dead."

"As you say ma'am." It was clear that he wasn't completely comfortable with order but he would follow it.

Harry pulled out his phone and began to walk towards the sight of the massacre. It would be best if he had a personal account to report the old Hawk. What he saw was reminded him of something from his darkest nightmares. A thick green miasma floated around the corpses and up in to the sky. The bodies were twisted and contorted in mocking ways, like animals or like circus performers. If he remembered correctly Dee had done this before in a small Diner. For twenty -wo hours Dee twisted the minds and bodies for his sick games. Harry had witnessed one such incident while in the In Between.

But out of all of them three women stood out amongst them. Their bodies had been defiled and their eyes gouged out. These wounds were self-inflicted but once again this was not the person's will. Dee twist and destroys…

Harry would end him regardless of orders.

Perched on lamppost a for eyed raven cawed drawing the attention of the Wizard. It felt like it was laughing but before he could question it flew off into the night.

In the darkness Harry felt that the figurative night would last for a long time.

o0o0o0o0o

It began with madness and it would end in madness.

Harley Quinn was huddled in a corner of Arkham Asylum's morgue. She rocked back and forth as sobs ripped through her body. Behind her was doctor Serrano tied to a metal slab slowly bleeding out from her slit throat. Harley had done that after the bitch started to gloat about how'd she'd been the one to cut into her pudding's body. Back in the day Harleen had respected Doctor Serrano as a superior but that been before she'd threw her to the Joker and the published every observation she had made as her own. Maybe that had been the straw that broke the camel's back or maybe it was that the Joker was so absolutely charming and she had fallen madly in love with that monster.

Truly Mad Love.

"You can't go home again." Harley mumbled through tears. Thomas Wolfe had written that. That short sentence was meant to symbolize that home was no longer a place, but a time…. Harley had come to the conclusion that Thomas Wolfe was a tool. Maybe she couldn't go home again but that didn't mean that she could leave at all behind. Arkham had once been her home but like everything before the place had changed. Joker was dead, the Ventriloquist had been murdered, Croc was gone, Ivy was a hero… everything changed and poor Harley was left alone in a mansion that no longer felt safe… that was until she met that cute agent playing detective.

Harry had been the first new face she'd seen in so long and he was funny. Sure he was a bit rough around the edges but that was probably cause he was embarrassed at seeing Harley in her underwear, but the way he looked at her sent a spark through her system. He was kind enough to get her a transfer out of Arkham, so she could have some fun but that was kinda growing old and without her Pudding what was the point?

Sure, she'd gotten a bomb jammed into her neck but no one was perfect. He'd been the perfect gentleman up till the point he had to leave… something about finding a miising kid, or something… Harley couldn't remember she'd been distracted by his keister.

The tears dried up as her mind distracted Harley with images of Harry's scarred body waiting for her in bed… and him making her breakfast… or maybe shining her mallet…

"Yahtzee…" She said breaking into a demented grin, her troubles pushed into a box in the back of her mind. All of it became meaningless in front of an opportunity such as this. She could stop running! He would surely protect her.

Harleen tried to say something about obsession but Harley stuffed her back into her box. What did she know about obsession that Harley didn't? She was being perfectly rational.

She'd go to London, find him, ask to be placed in protective custody, squawk on Waller, get a pardon and ride the man's broomstick like it was going out of style. It was the perfect plan.

Nothing could possibly go wrong!

o0o0o0o0o

A/N: Here's chapter fourteen of Warm Shadows. Things are finally picking up as Doctor Destiny makes his to make something clear I'm not retconing the the battle of Hogwarts. What Zatanna saw was an illusion to create distrust, Harry in no way posses the mark of Skath.

So, the Old Man's identity is finally revealed. A few people have actually managed to deduce this... Ares is War just incase you didn't get the connection.

Please review with your thoughts.

Check out my Worm/Batman crossover Foxglove if you're interested.

I honestly hope you enjoyed this addition.

Happy trails till we meet again.


	15. Gods and Monsters (Part one of two)

" _He dances on the edge of the known, like a crazy man, pitting himself against heaven and the pit, because he is John Constantine; and because he is alive._ "

Doctor Occult (Books of Magic)

o0o0o0o0o

Kreacher was a good house elf but he was old.

Not that the filthy half-blood master realized that, no, he didn't appreciate the struggle that it was for him to lift the tea trey over his head. His legs were weak and his arms shook with every task he completed. The old, haggard, wrinkly House elf did his duty with a sour face but he never complained, as this was his sole reason for living. Kreacher kept the house clean and he made sure that the artifacts that he brought back after every successful hunts were properly polished.

From the curved sword that had once belonged to a woman he called out for in his nightmares to the horned helmet that once belonged to a god of blood and glory, Kreacher kept them in prime condition… though he did wish he could fix the gaping hole in the cursed armor his Master had brought home all those years ago.

…

But the Mirror he had brought into Grimmauld Place was something else entirely. It was dark magic; almost bordering on black, yet Kreacher could not say a word to warn his filthy Half-Blood Master… _It_ did not allow him.

The It Kreacher was referring to took the shape of a human woman. She was a beautiful by their standards; her was violet in color and long enough to reach. Her eyes were bright shining blue; Kreacher would have compared them to the moon if he knew the name of the large white ball in the sky had a name. She dressed in a revealing black dress and wore no shoes.

There was also a mark above where its heart was supposed to be… like a triangle but much more complex.

It wasn't human, despite how It showed itself to be, that much he knew. It wanted his Master, not like it wanted Kreacher, no, it wanted him like his dear Mistress Walbulga wanted Master Orion. To Kreacher the woman was hunger incarnate and with every passing day it grew stronger…. while Kreacher grew weaker.

The decrepit House Elf had resigned himself to death without finishing Master Regulus' final order.

"Kreacher!" He heard his Master's call. With a pop the dutiful house elf trans ported himself to his master's side. His master was dressed in a finely fitted suit, black but casual for someone of his position, under a worn overcoat. There was a hard look in his emerald eyes. It had been there since the death of the blood-traitor, and had only grown worse after he returned from his sabbatical. Kreacher wasn't stupid enough to push this particular Master; he could not die because the filthy Half-Blood decided that he didn't need him anymore. No, he would die in service to Ancient and Noble House Black or until the purple haired parasite took what was left of his strength.

"What must Kreacher do for the filthy Half-blood Master?" He muttered as he handed the wizard his satchel.

Harry pretended not to register the words Kreacher used and instead reached into his bag and produced a small rectangular box from his bag. "Wrap thus gift up and place it n my bed." With shaking hands the old elf took the parcel and popped away before the wizard could get a word in edgewise.

Unlike before, when Kreacher did for the sake of annoying his master, he had popped away because a wave of weakness had struck him. He fell to his knees as black dots littered his vision and he heard a cackle ring in his ears.

 _'Why do you resist, creature_?' it mocked as he attempted to rise. The voice had a thick accent like that man Master Orion had sent for during the war… Kakaroff, Kreacher remembered his name was _'Why don't you succumb to your obvious… weakness_ _and allow someone worthy to bear the mazter's burden?"_

Kreacher gritted his teeth as he felt his Master leave the house.

 _'Not today.'_ He thought to himself. Kreacher struggled to his feet. "Not when Kreacher can still be of service."

o0o0o0o0o

It was raining… it hadn't been raining when he was indoors but as soon as he put a foot past the threshold it began to poor. It was almost as if he'd been jinxed, just as John had been cursed, but as many enemies as he had he couldn't come up with a reason to make him suffer foul weather.

Hi goddaughter deserved better than a rainy afternoon a day before her birthday but what could he do?

Once he left the house Harry apparated with a loud crack, not that his Muggle neighbors noticed. No one could see him as long as he stood on the steps that led to the houses door, not unless they, like Draco, were keyed into the location. Apparition was especially unpleasant to the Wizard but it was a necessary sacrifice when true evil was afoot. To Harry apparition didn't feel quite right… not like it used to at least. It felt as if two of him were being pushed through the proverbial keyhole… maybe it was just age catching up with him.

The less educated labeled all magic that could do harm as Black Magic, but that in itself was a misnomer as all magic had the potential to do harm. An uncontrolled healing charm could cause cells to multiply rapidly, or a simple lumus could potentially blind a person, or a summoning charm could cause a person to be dragged through a busy street. The term Black magic came from the mistranslation of an ancient scroll, which was under the protection of Nicholas Flamel at the time. Some wannabe scholar thought it wise to break into the Alchemist's library and pilfer through his books. Needless to say that he was almost caught but in his haste the translator jotted down Nigromantia, which in Latin meant "Divination by means Black" instead of Necromantia.

So like all things it just ended up being Life magic versus Death magic… and even that was incorrect on so many levels.

Magic is power.

Voldemot knew this but in his avarice he failed to grasp the reality of it. Magic wasn't just a tool for the strong to control, it is seeing through the shadows to the world beyond reality and to wonders normal humans were never to discover. It was a both a privilege and a responsibility to wield magic, not a right to be abused.

John Dee had abused that power. Necromancy on that level hadn't been seen since the Dark Ages.

Rowlington would not heal for many years, so much death corrupted the earth… not that anyone would want to live there after the cover story MI5 came up with. Kris Lazarus was dead scientist who had attempted to clone a creature known as Doomsday a few years back. His creation was so unstable that it fell apart soon after encountering Wonder Woman. Now, the spin was that he had survived his encounter and had set up shop beneath the small town but this time things ended much worse.

In their woven tale fed to the public Kris Lazarus created a virus from the cells of his original creation and it escaped killing the occupants of the town before it died out. Now, Harry wasn't a fan of lying to the public but his department head had agreed that this was the best course of action. When the Morrigan ordered her agents to go along with it, all of them followed despite how they felt about it.

When the news broke there was an appropriate amount of fear, but the people took comfort in knowing that the man responsible was dead and the chances of this horror returning where minimal. The problem that Harry had with this little story was that the only way that it would hold was if they caught Dee before he could do it again… Which was exactly what they were having problems with.

The man, despite his lack of magic, had acquired himself an extra dimensional witch. Her name was Rachel, if what the dying woman had told him was to be believed. Without other options the DEO had labeled her the source of Dee's power… that meant if she couldn't be pacified none lethally they were going to have to deal with more permanently than he would prefer. This sickened him beyond whatever shreds lingered within his soul.

Harry disapparated in the center Potter Field Park far enough away from Tower Bridge that Lennox could comfortably wait for him. Of course, the hulking demigod wasn't there and in his place was a tall man with bluish-grey skin, dressed in leaning heavily on wooden staff with two coiling snakes. He dressed in a grey beanie and a green army camouflage poncho, but besides his oddly colored tint what stood out most were the talon feet that everyone seemed to ignore.

"Harry Potter-"

"Black." Harry corrected.

"My apologies, Mister Black." He said sincerely. "When Lennox sent me here I had wrongly assumed that you hadn't changed your name since your time as my brother's disciple." If the man could have looked guiltier he would have but as it was there was something more urgent in his tone. "I am Hermes, God of-."

"Messengers and thieves." Harry completed for the wounded god. He knew exactly what kind of god Hermes was, a trickster much like Loki had been in Norse mythology. He appeared to some as benevolent but every action he took would ultimately serve his own purpose. "War told me about you… but he didn't mention that you were around or that you would approach me… what do you want?"

"My companions and I are in desperate need of aid." Hermes answered with conviction. His staff glowed slightly with his words but other than that nothing happened. "Lennox approached us with a daring plan. It is difficult but achievable but only if we have sufficient members… which we do but as I have been crippled by hunters…"

Hermes took a few minutes to explain how he came upon this situation. How he had discovered a woman, her name was Zola, carrying the last son of Zeus in America, before his apparent disappearance, and his effort to protect both her and the child. Diana had sworn to protect them, and was currently with Zola somewhere nearby. The trio had at on point fled to Thermyscira, but left after something had caused Diana to flee her home and return to London. Hermes skimmed over the incident that drove them from the safety of Thermyscira, as if what they had experienced there were enough to make him reconsider helping.

'Noble.' Harry had to admit but there was something off about the whole thing. The timing was suspect. The massacre of Rowlington had occurred three days ago and now a god who wished to enlist him had approached Harry with some kind of quest… not that he could refuse. Even if Dee was just a coincidence nothing Hermes had said explained why he had gotten involved… The majority of the Greek pantheon was hedonistic by nature, Hermes was no exception, their pursuit for pleasure had caused wars that shook the very foundation of humanity and even in their most benevolent moment they rarely interfered in the lives of mortals.

"Will you lend us your aid?"

Before Harry could give a reply Big Ben chimed, followed quickly by an explosion of water of water rose from the Thames, and a deep, resounding voice boomed from the river.

 ** _"You are an Amazon?"_** The voice bellowed. " ** _There is more to you…_** " there was a pause and then there was a hiss that sounded akin to " ** _Zeus, his blood no longer holds… water._** **"** The voice sounded pleased with itself, puns did tend to boost the confidence of the speaker. " ** _You would do well to get out of my way, mongrel."_**

"Poseidon." Hermes clarified once he deciphered the curiosity in Harry's eyes. "It seems that I am late and Zola left undefended."

"What about Lennox?" His friend wasn't the strongest Demigod but he was no push over.

"He is parlaying with my other uncle."

"Hades?"

"Yes."

 _'Fuck.'_ Harry darted towards the bridge in a dead sprint. With one hand he reached for his phone. He didn't need to look as he dialed his boss's number. The phone rang exactly twice before the Morrigan picked up.

"Agent Black, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call? You're not due in for today."

"Poseidon has surfaced near Tower Bridge and according to a reliable source Hades will follow soon enough." Harry sidestepped a couple who where frozen in fear as a giant whale/octopus like creature floated on the river. It was massive, taking up half of the width of the Thames and the only thing between the bridge and Poseidon was Diana.

She wore her usual uniform. Silver bands reflected the scant sunlight like beacons of hope. She did not draw her lasso or her sword, instead choosing to approach the god with words. He was too far to hear what she said but knowing her… there was a seventy five percent chance that she was reasoning with him, the other twenty-five would be her threatening Poseidon with death.

"Wonder Woman is on the scene but be ready for a fight to break out."

"When it rains…" The Morrigan sighed in resignation. "What is your assessment of the situation?"

"The potential for catastrophe is too large to ignore." Harry hissed into the device. Normally by this point there would be several teams, armed to the teeth, portkeying to his location. The DEO had prepared for possibly world ending events; this was a result of Darkseid's invasion of Earth a few years back. "Why aren't you sending an immediate response?"

"As of right now, we simply do not have the resources to mount a sufficient defense." Her tone was cold but there was sliver of sympathy I her tone. "Most of our forces are in Rowlington, keeping the area quarantined, and those remaining few won't make a difference."

"Why can't we redirect some of the enforcers-"

"Whatever John Dee did in that town is interfering with all forms of magical transportation."

"I'm on my own?" Harry asked, he had suspected that Agent Blake was still following him, as she tended to do.

"Yes."

"Permission to attempt to minimalize casualties?" He sounded determined, or at least to himself. There was, of course, a reason for his question. It was the only way he could let loose without the DMLE making a show of him using magic in front of Muggles. As it was he couldn't risk drawing too much negative attention from magical society until they found either found Charles alive, so he could tell them that Harry had nothing to do with his kidnapping, they found his corpse and a proper investigation could be mounted.

"Keep exposure minimal and try to keep the damage as limited as possible." _Translation: 'Try to avoid using flashy spells and try not to get yourself killed_.'

"Roger that." With that he pocketed the phone and nearly instantly noted a woman in a blue hoodie and a brown backpack standing by the rail looking upon the scene. Every other human, near human, and creature posing as humanoid was fleeing the scene… except her… she was glued in place. Was this Zola? Or was this just another idiot with their phone taping a video in hopes of making a few dollars for channel fifty-two.

The Ministry wouldn't send its forces to deal with this. Not when it threatened to break their Statute of Secrecy, so Harry had to be extra carful when setting up protections on the bridge.

He moved closer to her but stops when he spots something much more worrying. Two centaurs like creature were strutting onto the bridge with weapons drawn. One had a spiked mace and the other carried a short sword. The one with the short sword was grey furred and much more bestial than any centaur Harry had ever met. He had a quiver made of hide but no bow in sight. The other was cream-colored fur had no other weapon but she looked more like a centaur than her companion. She looked feminine as a mockery of a being could.

 **"** ** _My brother Zeus was a monster who cared about nothing other than himself."_** The sea god bellowed but Harry paid him little attention. The Wizard reached into his bag and pulled the Betrayer's blade from its depth. Clarent was unlike Sin and Salvation, it was long and heavy, and it did not whisper promises of paradise or damnation, but it did tug at his bloodlust and scorn. **_"Ergo. I'm not interested in anything you have to say and now hat the heavens are without a lord, I mean to claim them as mine. I will rectify the mistake of ceding them to him and no one will stand in my way."_**

"Centaurs on Tower Bridge." Harry murmured as a twisted grin split his face. "The Ministry's incompetence knows no bounds." He could feel Clarent's influence touch his magic. Its darkness resonated with his own like a warm hand.

It was like the imeprius curse, comforting… almost soothing but ultimately it could be ignored if on had strong enough will. He could see why Mordred betrayed King Arthur, as the magic of this sword would be too strong for a mortal with no magic. Harry wasn't swayed by its calls to slaughter

The beasts stood against the mass of bodies scanning for something with their blank, empty eyes. The one with the sword suddenly tensed when his gaze fell upon the blue hoody woman. It roared and pointed its blade at her and charged, its companion followed with inhuman viciousness.

It was lucky that Harry was closer.

Harry slammed his forearms together creating a protective physical barrier around himself and the woman he suspected to be Zola. The beasts, like Greyback, slammed into his shield with tremendous force. She was blond with short hair and blue eyes. She was shorter than Harry and rather slim. Nothing to indicate that she was pregnant. The woman's gaze snapped away from Diana and moved between her savior and centaurs trying to kill her.

"You're Zola, right?" Harry asked. When the woman didn't answer he couldn't help but roll his eyes as she glared at him with distrust. "Hermes sent me to protect both you and your child."

"Who the hell are you!?" She demanded. Her distrust was as annoying as it was refreshing. Many people this day and age are far too trusting of people that present themselves as saviors. He guessed that the age of heroes made people far too trusting. "Where's Hermes?"

"In the park limping," Harry stated while his shield was being assaulted. "Hopefully he is on his way here." Though he doubted it. Beings that labeled themselves gods tended to be immortal but more often than not they could be injured. Why else would they hide in the shadows if they were absolutely invulnerable? The feared humanity because they had the power to unite and were very creative with their punishments.

The Centaur with the mace battered it against the shield while the one with the sword circled them. It was looking for an opening… not that he would find one; the goblins didn't build things with weaknesses, it would be bad for business. The shield would protect them from physical attack but the problem was that he couldn't go on the offensive.

He couldn't set protections that would limit the damage that Poseidon could inflict, nor could he deal with the two centaurs whose blood Clarent sung for. Something had to give, but not until he deemed it so. Looking at his environment he was able to put together a strategy that allow him to do both.

"Duck under the car." Harry ordered Zola. The blonde, who had most if not all her attention on the beasts intent on taking her life, looked at him confusedly.

"What?"

Harry was about to repeat his order but was cut off by the Sea God's roar. It didn't take him long to figure out what Diana was up to and, in a way, it made him proud that she had learned something from the scarred Warlock… even if it was just the best way to keep an opponent busy. The best way is to get them monologuing.

" ** _SHE DARES?!"_** Poseidon's tentacles lifted Diana in to the air, pulling at her limbs. **_"SHE BELIEVES THAT SHE CAN CLAIM WHAT BELONGED TO ZEUS?"_** The shout was loud enough that it shook the Tower Bridge like it had been hit by an earthquake and strong enough that Harry's forearms separated for a fraction of a second. The shield momentarily flickered out of existence but the centaurs couldn't capitalize on this weakness because they stumbled as the bridge shook. **_"I will make her kneel, just as Zeus did."_**

Poseidon growled as he attempted to twist the Amazon's limbs.

**_"This world was divided among three brothers, the heavens, the seas, and the underworld. The scraps we left to others…"_ **

He on the other hand acted swiftly as they recovered. Harry didn't exactly shove the pregnant woman as he did forcefully guide her beneath the vehicle. She yelped loudly but scooted further beneath the teal van. With that taken care of Harry spun on his heel and swung Clarent at centaur closest to him.

If he had used Sin or its sister blade Salvation, the sword would have smacked into the mace, maybe chipping the grip, but otherwise nothing remarkable would have happened. Harry knew from legends that Clarent was a magical sword. It had been originally given to King Arthur by the nymph Nimue and later it was passed onto Mordred once the king had gained complete control of Excalibur. Clarent curse was well known; wounds inflicted from the blade did not heal naturally and by the time magic was able to mend it would be far too late.

What most didn't know, Harry included, was that Clarent was much sharper than it appeared. The Arthurian sword sliced through the thickest part of the mace with moderate ease, continued onto the weapon's handle, leaving it unevenly split, and severed its fingers.

He didn't stop there.

Harry used the momentum of his swing to twirl forward. The shock of loosing appendages was enough of a distraction that she couldn't react fast enough to retreat or more likely stomp the Warlock with her hooves. The first hit staggered the beast at Clarent dug into its body. The second came from the same direction but without her weapon and without the time it would take her to react He hacked at the base of the centaur's human like torso. It took Harry three solid swings to sever the body in two.

The cascade of blood that followed stained his clothes and cover most of his body from the neck down yet it didn't slow him in the slightest as he dodge a wild swipe from the other centaurs gladius. As it was the Warlock was having a great time, if the tested grin on his face was any indicator.

Harry loved losing himself in the role… it was almost cathartic.

Many magicals in his profession did the same thing. Baron Winter excused the atrocities he committed by claiming them in the name of balance; John did it whenever he lost another friend I some twisted miss adventure or another; Doctor Fate allowed the being known as Nabu to take control of his body in the name of Order; and even Zee, sweet, innocent Zatanna, did it whenever she sacrificed a part of herself for the Greater good. Distancing oneself was a small price to pay compared to what others did for peace and justice. The pain, the anger, the sheer unapologetic frustration… it was better to immerse himself in them than to suffer the numbness that being just Harry entailed.

The heightened rush that followed the fight was glorious. Every movement was calculated and never did he consider ending the fight with his wand as he easily could. Harry didn't realize just how much of Clarent's influence seeped past his Occlumency shields, but as his purpose for engaging the beasts was forgotten and the warped glee that he felt engaging the centaur in his deadly dance grew it became apparent that he wasn't in full control of his faculties.

He didn't swing, nor did he parry, no, he moved around his opponent as water did a rock. None of the aches he had collected in his twenty-seven years of life bothered him, his scars didn't itch, and his magic felt amazing for the first time since Carolyn's death.

'And why was that?' One might ask.

It wasn't because of Clarent's influence, despite how he would suspect it in the future, it was simply a catalyst for it to emerge; It wasn't Luna's strange companion fault either, though she was the embodiment of it; nor was it fault of Dee whose parasite had shown him paradise. It was because he'd allowed himself to be immersed in the metaphorical abyss he'd been teetering over the edge of for years.

It was the song of Pan that flowed through his veins, which moved his body like a puppet on strings. It was the part of him that Diana had seen all those months ago, when they'd trekked across the multiverse.

It was the Darkness within him.

Not that it lasted.

A moment later an impromptu javelin made from what appeared to be a flagpole, if Saint George's Cross was any indication impaled the beast sending over the railing. The centaur sailed of the side of the bridge much to Harry's disappointment. His grin falling as the creature fell into the river. Harry turned to look at the thrower but froze in place when he caught the concern in Diana's eyes.

The feelings of euphoria disappeared as he sobered, sheathing Clarent in it ornate obsidian scabbard. The fight was won yet now that the sword was put away he felt little to no elation. Zola was safe, Poseidon was on his merry way, and the bridge was still in one piece… but of that was overshadowed by the look Diana was sending his way.

Her lips moved as if to speak but Harry held up a hand to silence her.

"No time for emotion, love." He cringed at his choice of words. She had said those very words as they readied themselves to fight the Dark Angel; they had stung like all rejections that mattered should yet he did not hold them against her. Harry had shown his darkness to her and it had frightened her. This had been the second time she'd seen him like this… he promised himself that there would not be a third. "We've got a job to finish."

"We will speak of this, Harry." She stated because she knew he would not refuse her. She moved past him and lifted the truck that Zola hid under with one hand. She gave the woman a smile and muttered some small joke that was shared between them. When she turned back to Harry, he noticed something broken in her smile. "But for now, you are correct we need to complete this before Hera discovers what we're doing."

He didn't comment on what he observed… Harry Black was many things, but a hypocrite was not one of them.

The Amazon grabbed Zola and Harry in each arm and jumped onto the Poseidon's back.

o0o0o0o0o

Lennox didn't like sewers.

That wasn't exactly surprising considering who his dear ol' Da was but then again he couldn't imagine any one liked being underground for a long period of time looking for the gate to the underworld. The Demigod hated being trapped beneath the stone mostly because the first time he discovered that he was special was during one of the bombing the Nazi's had done during the early days of WWII.

Yet he was especially off put by the companion who walked next to him.

Hades, or Hell as he preferred to be called, looked like a boy no older than fifteen. He dressed in plate armor that revealed nothing about his Greek origins. He was short but the candles that burned brightly from the top of his head as their wax covered most of his face added another foot to him.

"I find this fascinating." Hell finally spoke up after their mostly silent trek.

"What this?" Lennox asked as he stepped past a particularly large collection of shit.

"This playing with Gods." Hell clarified in his soft monotonous voice. "It never ends well for you because it actually only is a game to us…" He stopped when he spotted a figure standing by the entrance. "Is that Hermes?"

"It is." Lennox assured as he pulled out a cigarette from his coat. "I'm running with the Messenger." At that Hades burst into laughter. It was a disturbing sound that was caught between a laugh and wheeze. Lennox looked at him as he had grown a second head. "Did I make a joke?"

At the inquiry Hades composed himself. "In a way. You said you're running with someone you can't possibly keep up with."

Lennox knew well enough when he was being insulted, not that he showed it. It was for the best if people underestimated him. He wasn't very well learnt but he considered himself a good judge of character. After all he saw the past the mask Harry erected for the rest of the world and made dear friend. He didn't trust Hermes, which was why he had sent him to get Harry to guard after Zola.

If all went according to plan his magical friend would have taken Zola back to that hidden house of his while he and Wonder Woman dealt Hera and her ilk.

"It was just a turn of phrase." Lennox remarked smoothly.

A mad grin split Hades face. "Maybe your words were." Was his enigmatic reply.

Once they reached the mouth of the sewer Lennox couldn't help the words that slipped from his mouth once he caught sight of a giant tentacle whale that was waiting by the dark sandy bank.

"God almighty."

"Yes?" Hades answered his call.

"Yes?" Hermes followed.

 ** _"Yes?"_** Poseidon asked amusedly.

Things were going according to plan.

Diana descended from the sea god's back, in her arms she carried Zola, who looked nauseous, and Harry, who was covered in blood from the neck down. His friend looked absolutely pissed the second his eyes landed on Lennox.

Or not.

"I told you that I needed to speak to you." The Demigod defended with a grin.

"Next time the 'wind' tells you something like this you stop with the enigmatic word game bullshit."

The Messenger smiled at his words. "So there will be a next time." Hermes said with a smile. "Your help will be invaluable."

Hades looked at Harry with a tilt of his head. There was a look of disgust on his face but he did not speak until Lennox nudged him with a look. "Your friend stinks of the pool of resurrection." At this Harry turned to Hades and gave him a questioning look of his own. "The smell sticks to your skin for decades." Hades turned away from the mortals and turned his attention to his brother. "Do you agree to Heaven's bastards proposal, dear brother?"

" ** _I have yet to hear a proposal-"_**

Green lighting spit the sky, much like it had done in Harry's vision of the Fall of the Amazons, and with it Hera appeared exactly as she had been the night she had turned Hippolyta into a stone statue.

"No proposal shall come to pass!" The Queen bitch shouted at the top of her lungs

Lennox smiled.

Things **were** going to plan after all.

o0o0o0o0o

Miles away in creaky shack a pale goddess in a ripped dress walked into a small dilapidated wooden shack just outside of a hidden village and next to ancient castle. Strife couldn't help but smiled as she felt the warping fabric of reality give way the further she went into the broken abode.

Within the complex she could hear the scream of souls being ripped apart and then stitched together into something new. The pain and the agony were delightful to her ears but they were not why she had come here. She enjoyed them sure but she could get this feeling anywhere she decided to grace her presence with no, she was here for the occupant of this house.

Strife walked into the main room, where the occupant kept his creations and smiled when she spotted him. Now, Strife loved her little sister dearly and she had decided that she would give the ungrateful amazon a gift. The goddess considered herself one of love because was there a greater catalyst for that emotion than discord? No, of course not. She had felt the turmoil with both Diana and the scarred man she had presented and knew just how to bring them together.

"Doctor Destiny…" She smiled at the seated man as his puppet tended to the bound man in the corner. "I am here with a proposal worthy of a god like yourself."

o0o0o0o0o

A/N: Here's chapter fifteen... i'm not happy with it but it satisfies what i needed to convey.

In this chapter I hinted at the identity of the Servant that i had mention a few chapter back. Can any of you guess who she is? Now, this chapter's main purpose was to embroil Harry deeper into Wonder Woman's story as she plays an important part within his own. Lennox has been hinting that he was planning something big since i first introduced him and this is it. A Game for the Throne of Olympus... or is it?

The DEO not responding was actually something that made sense to me. An entire town being massacred should hold the attention of the entire department, especially such a small forces in reserve wouldn't be able to stop a rampaging immortal and as such they would be better suited for recovery efforts. Harry wasn't going to stop even if he was ordered.

On him not using magic: Harry can't risk earning more ire from the Ministry while his brother is missing. So he didn't wizard magic because the trouble it would cause outweighed the benefits when dealing with the rogue centaurs. The protection he was supposed place wouldn't have been as obvious as creature exploding for no apparent reason.

as always PM or review with any questions.

Next update: Foxglove


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